Bewitched
by Compgirl21
Summary: When Mark started a farm one year ago, love was the last thing on his mind. But now it seems he's stumbled upon it in the most least likely of places.
1. Chapter 1: A witch

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon. If I did, would make a few adjustments. **

**_Chapter 1: A witch_ **

I had gotten lucky. I had visited Lanna's house this morning in hopes of some fishing tips and found a pleasant surprise. "This was in the mouth of a fish I caught yesterday, Mark," she told me, holding out the stone. It was shaped in the exact form of a sun, it was red, and it was warm. I was identical to the others I had collected. I had seen many of these stones, and yet every time I saw a new one I was stunned for a few moments by its beauty. "Thanks, Lanna," I had, all thoughts of fishing tips leaving my mind. I took the stone from her and put it in my rucksack. I broke out into a wide smile. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

She didn't look at me; instead she examined her fishing pole collection. "I just realized - I have twelve sunstones," I said. "Oh?" She sounded politely interested, but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere. "Which island are you raising next?" "The Mystic Islands," I said. "There are two?" "Yeah." "Cool." Lanna smiled at me. "If you see Denny on your way to Meadow Island, would you please ask him to come here? I need him to look at one of my fishing poles."

She frowned at them behind the glass case. I agreed and left her glamorous house. I didn't see Denny hanging out on the beach, so I assumed he was either in his home or at Chen's Shop. Either way, I wasn't going to bother looking for him. I was too eager. I passed Sabrina on the way to Vendure Island; she was walking down the road, staring at the ocean. "Morning," I said politely.

She smiled at me and replied, "Good morning, Mark. Lovely day, isn't it?" she asked. I nodded and told her where I was going. "That'll be nice – a new place to go to. I'm not allowed on Volcano Island, you know." She sounded sad. "Why not?" I asked, genuinely curious. She sighed.

"My father thinks it's too dangerous for me," she explained.

"But he's down there all the time – so is your cousin and that Lily girl." She sighed again.

"Yes, well, father is very strict with his rules."

I wished Sabrina would do what she wanted for once, and not allow Regis to hold her back, but I knew she was too shy. I nodded and excused myself, pitying her the whole walk. Maybe she would meet a nice guy that lets her do what she likes. When I reached Meadow Island, Will was there, the blonde rich prince, Sabrina's cousin and Regis's father. He flirted with every girl of the island, and called them all 'maidens'

. I didn't know him well enough to like or dislike him, but he was odd, to say the least. "Hello, Mark," he said cheerfully to me, "Isn't it wonderfully pretty outside today? Nature astounds me." He also had a different way of speaking, but I couldn't really explain it. "Yes, yes," I said.

I didn't mean to be rude, but I was eager and he was distracting me. He noticed me glancing sideways at the white shrine, which was beautiful and sacred to this Island. Lily had wanted to use it when she first arrived, but I had told her about how special it was to all of the Islanders, and she had agreed to leave it alone reluctantly. She spent a lot of time on Volcano Island, though, claiming there was whole masses of treasures there.

"Raising another island, my friend?" Will asked me. I snapped back to reality. "Oh, well, yeah," I said. Will smiled and gestured to the shrine. "Well, don't let me stop you." I hurried up to it, and almost instantly a Harvest Sprite appeared. I had forgotten his name. "Hi, Mark!" he said enthusiastically, "What would you like to do today?" "Raise an island," I answered. I pulled the rucksack off my shoulders and pulled out the twelve sunstones.

I gave them to him, and the Harvest Sprites' eyes lit up. "Which one?" he asked, eagerly gathering up the stones. "The Mystic Islands," I replied promptly.

I had no idea what would be on it, but the name was mysterious enough to let curiosity overpower practicality – I had thought it would be more sensible to raise Mushroom Island first, but oh well. "I'll use the stone's power now," The Harvest Sprite told me. I wasn't allowed to watch what he did them, not that it mattered.

He hurried behind the shrine and I waited for several minutes. All at once, the ground started shaking violently under my feet, and I looked back to see Will wildly trying to keep his balance. I was doing the same. The shaking continued for longer than it had last time.

I dropped to my knees so I wouldn't be flailing constantly, and Will had done the same. If I squinted, I could see two mighty figures emerging from the sea like monsters. They shot up into the sky, and then, with one last strong shake, the ground was still under my feet, and it was safe to stand. I got to my feet, and stumbled over to where Will was to help him up.

"Thank you," he said. I nodded and didn't stick around. I hurried back over to the boat person, whose name I had also forgotten. "Want to head over to the new island, Mark?" he asked. I nodded, and he helped me climb aboard.

The ride took longer than it should have, but finally we pulled up alongside the dock, and I jumped off. The two islands were connected by a long, slanting bridge. I went right first and found myself on a small island, and the small, faded sign read, _the Harvest Goddess is said to reside here. _

Behind the sign was beautiful green grass swaying around a small pond. Around the pond, there were also blueberries and flowers. I picked up them all and was about to look at the other island before I glanced back at the pond dubiously. I had heard stories about someone called the Harvest Goddess; she resided in water, and her home _was_ said to be a small pond. If one made an offering to her, she would appear.

I sighed and pulled one, pretty flower up from the ground. I tossed it in the center of the pond and waited for several minutes. Just as I was about to roll my eyes and leave, the water began to sway unnaturally.

Before my eyes, a sort of green mist was forming above where the offering had been thrown, and out of the mist appeared a beautiful woman. She smiled at me as the mist around her disappeared. "Hello, Mark," she said in a pleasant voice.

My mouth fell open, and my hand rose without my permission to point at her. "You're the – you're the . . ." "Harvest Goddess!" She finished, laughing. Her laugh reminded me of wind chimes. "Thank you for the offering – I love flowers." She held the flower in her hands, looking down at it lovingly. And then she looked at me again, her lovely eyes almost glowing. "I've been watching you, Mark, and I must say I am largely impressed with your progress. You're doing so well," she praised me. I looked away uncomfortably. "Um, thank you," I muttered. She laughed again, and the flower disappeared from her hands. "I must go now," she said, "But come back soon!" I nodded and stepped back.

She looked in the direction of the other island, sighed, and muttered something unintelligible. "What?" I asked. She shook her head. "Oh, nothing – I just have a feeling a certain acquaintance of mine will be moving here as well. It seems she's always around," the Harvest Goddess mused. "Who is she?" I wanted to know. The pretty woman scowled, an unnatural-looking emotion for her. "You'll meet her soon enough, but I warn you, it's best you stay away from her. She is . . . the complete opposite of me."

With that, she began to disappear, a sad-looking expression in her eyes. I wanted to tell her to wait, but something told me she would not, and I would come back soon anyway. I walked over to the other small island and read the sign. _An island fit for a witch, _it read. I snorted. A witch? Witches aren't real. But then again, I hadn't thought the Harvest Goddess was real. If this sign was true, then certainly this was the Witch the Harvest Goddess had been talking about.

The complete opposite of her.

Life and death.

Light and darkness.

Good and evil.

I shook my head and returned to the boat. I still had things to do; my chickens needed to be put back in their home, and it was getting dark. I banished today's encounter from my mind and headed back to my farm.

* * *

The next day was Monday. It was raining, as Taro had predicted, so the crops didn't have to be watered, nor did the animals have to be put out. I had been thinking about heading to Volcano Island to do some mining the next day it rained, as I had more energy without having worked so hard in the morning. But I didn't want to go there; I wanted to go back to Mystic Islands. It wasn't likely anything new had happened since I left, but . . . I stopped at Taro's house before I went to the boat.

"My trick knee is telling me it'll be sunny tomorrow," he said to me. Natalie and Elliot were lugging crates around. "Hey, Mark," both of them said. I nodded to both of them. I didn't care so much for Elliot – his lack of self-esteem bothered me. He should be able to stand up for himself. Natalie bullied him often, and the results showed. His attitude reminded me of how Sabrina acted around Regis, and I shuddered

. Natalie, though, I admired for her strength. Not physically, of course. She never let people walk over her, like her brother did. "Where are you off to today, dear?" Felicia asked sweetly. "Over to Mystic Islands," I answered, "I gathered enough stones to raise them yesterday." She sighed. "Yes, we could tell by the earthquake, dear." I smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Well, goodbye now." Natalie and Elliot half-waved at me as I left. Natalie muttered something under her breathe about going over to Pierre's house later. I shuddered. The food-obsessed chef reminded me of a child. I passed his house on the way to the boat, and rolled my eyes at the fork and the knife hung above his door. In the distance, by the beach, I could see the island's animal dealer, Vaughn, I think his name is, talking to the girl who has an interest in farming herself, Chelsea. I thought this was odd; the only people I've ever seen him talk to are Mirabelle, Julia, and occasionally Denny.

There's a first time for everything, though. "Where to today, Mark?" the boat driver asked pleasantly.

I felt a little guilty for forgetting his name, but I had known him for a while, and it would be awkward to ask him now. "Mystic Islands," I said simply. He looked thoughtful for a second. "I heard they're going to build a church there. But yesterday I saw something strange." "What was it?" I asked curiously. The driver looked even more thoughtful, and when he spoke again, his voice was distant. "A house . . ." "Already? Impossible," I scoffed, "There couldn't have been a house built overnight; and even if there was, Gannon would have had to do it, and I haven't paid him to build anything." The driver shrugged.

"You're right. It must have been my imagination. Climb aboard, then, we're off." The driver's words nagged at me the whole ride there, but I didn't think about them. When we reached the dock, though, I saw through the few bushes on the ground, that the driver had spoken the truth.

A pink house now stood there, a few feet from the sign I had read yesterday. Oddly, two long, brown stumps stood on either sides of the door, the ends of both coiled into hands, each holding a lantern. I stepped off the boat and approached the house warily. Curiously enough, the house itself was a spectacle. Aside from the odd stump things, there were long purple lines drawn on the door, and purple dust floated everywhere as if there had been some sort of explosion.

I stared dumbly at it for a few minutes before I could gather my courage and knock on the door. It was silent for several long moments, but the door finally opened, and behind it stood a very short little girl in the strangest clothes I had ever seen.

Dressed in some kind of black cape, with shiny dark eyes and white-blonde hair, the girl was pretty enough, but she scowled at me in annoyance. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, "I was about to defeat the old bag! And then I could go back to my homeland, across the ocean." I gaped at her for a few seconds. "I err, uh . . ." I said stupidly.

From behind the girl, I heard a light, appealing laugh. "The day you beat me in magic, Witchkin, is the day I am on my deathbed," said a voice from behind the girl. Witchkin scowled again, this time at whoever was behind her. "I'll beat you one of these days, old lady," she snarled.

She glanced back at me and then muttered to the woman behind her. "There's a human here." I blinked. I heard footsteps approaching the door, and the woman who had spoken pushed Witchkin out of the way. The woman who stood before me now was very beautiful, like the Harvest Goddess had been, but in an entirely different way. She also wore the black cape, but hers was not as long, and it was held together by an icon strongly resembling a skull.

Beneath that, though, she wore a pretty purple dress that matched her boots. Her long white-blonde hair matched the girl's, and her eyes were also very dark, reminding me of a shade of red. It was unpleasant to stare at them for too long. She smirked at me. "Why, hello there," she said, "I am the Witch Princess, and this is my brat of a niece." Witchkin glared and stomped far back into the house. "I'm Mark," finally managed, "I'm the one who raised this island."

Witch Princess smiled at me. "Aw, then you raised my lovely new home. Thank you. But . . ." she looked suddenly angry, glaring past my shoulder, to the other island. "It seems as though the Harvest Goddess is my neighbor once again." She groaned. "I can't get rid of her, no matter where I move." I realized that I had been right before. This _was_ who the Harvest Goddess had been talking about, the one she had warned me about.

I looked at the sign nervously, and then looked back at the mysterious woman. "Yes, I met her yesterday," I muttered, taking a small step backward. Witch Princess scowled. "Friends of the Harvest Goddess are no friends of mine, Mark."

I was quick to think of a reply. "Oh, we're not really friends; she's just someone I happened to run into while I was exploring this island." I stared at her curiously. "You weren't here yesterday." Her face suddenly turned into an expression of ancient grief. "Yes, well, I used to live here, ages ago, but before long it sank into the sea. I had to leave, obviously, but when I heard it was back, of course I immediately returned."

I stared at her again, this time in wonder. "So…" I wasn't sure how to phrase my next question. She waited. I heard a shuffling behind her; it sounded like glass clinking together. Witch Princess frowned and whirled around. "Witchkin! Don't touch my potions without my permission!" I peered around Witch Princess's shoulder and saw her niece standing in front of a very tall bookshelf, covering half of the back wall. It towered high above both woman, and there was a ladder leaning against the eastern wall. On the shelves where large glass bottles, each containing odd-looking liquids, some of them sparking and sizzling, others doing nothing at all.

"I was just looking!" Witchkin explained, placing the bottle of popping blue liquid back on the shelf. She came back to the door and pushed her way past me. "I'm off to collect new magic," she announced, "to beat you with." Witch Princess smirked. "Don't bring back any frogs. I'm sick of the green slimy things." Witchkin stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face her Aunt, her expression more angry than simply irritated.

"And _I'm_ tired of those sickly-looking bears!" Witch Princess raised one of her hands, and I saw with alarm that the ends of her fingers sparked with red light. "Off with you now, before I turn you into a fly. We'll see how much you love frogs then!" Witchkin hurried away, obviously taking her Aunt seriously.

The rain had stopped, so the frogs weren't around anyway. The light on Witch Princess's fingers vanished and she smiled at me. "Come in, come in, and listen to what I tell you." I was hesitant about doing as she said, but I was afraid of the consequences if I refused. I came in, and sat down on a chair next to a square table in the center of the room. The tablecloth matched the strange design on the door, made to look like some kind of explosion.

Witch Princess made some kind of motion with her hands, and the door closed without her actually touching it. I shivered. Inside the house, I had a better view of exactly what was in here. Scattered everywhere on the floors were stuffed bears and frogs.

In the left corner, there was a grand green canopy bed, presumably where Witchkin slept. In the opposite corner, next to the majority of the bears, was another huge canopy bed, but this one was pink and grander. I looked at the bookshelves with all the potions, and saw that the other half of the wall had many shelves too, only these were stuffed with thick books. I squinted to get a look at the titles, but I was too far away; the house was quite big. I looked at Witch Princess, who was studying me with an amused expression in her eyes.

"So are you really a . . . a witch?" I finally asked. Witch Princess laughed loudly and sat down, levitating in the air. "What do you think?" I swallowed hard. "I think you are, and so is your niece." She nodded and grimaced. "Yes, she very well is. I didn't want her to come live with me here, but she insisted. She still thinks she can outwit me with magic, the little twerp. She's far less experienced than I am."

"How much experience," I wondered out loud, "_do _you have?" She fell back on her feet and wondered over to her huge bookshelves, her eyes scanning the titles of books. "A very long time," she said cryptically. There was an awkward silence, and I tried to think of a way to fill it. "I would have raised this island sooner," I told her as she pulled a very thick book from the shelf and flipped through it, "But there was a horrible storm last week, and I was missing one sunstone."

She smiled again, but she didn't take her eyes off the book. "The typhoon last week? Yes, I believe I caused that. It was soon boring in my previous location." My eyes widened. "_You _did that? You _ruined _my apple tree," I snapped. I had worked hard planting and watering it last spring, only to have its roots ripped violently from the ground by storm as if it was nothing more than a flower. She glanced up at me, and I fell silent.

"Did I? I apologize. But believe me, when you're as bored as I was, and as powerful, you get creative with ways to amuse yourself." Her eyes sparkled with some remembered memory. Half of me wanted to leave; this was just plain creepy. But the other half was curious about her. The curious half won. "That's alright," I sighed, "I can plant another one next year."

"A year passes by very quickly," she said, "Faster than I can blink." "Maybe to you. But to me, it seems like a long time," I informed her.

She closed the book and held it to her chest, covering the icon of a skull. "Yes, I guess it does. Anyway," she said, changing the subject, "If you ever find anything I can use in my potions, please bring it to me." "Like…?" I asked. She shrugged. "Lots of things. Fish bones. Toadstools. Things like that." "Aren't toadstools poisonous mushrooms?" I asked. "

Yes!" she cried happily, "And they are the most powerful in my spells. If you're ever not busy, come by and you can be my guinea pig." I shuddered. She noticed. "Not that you'd ever be hurt. I only hurt people who aren't my friends." She smiled. "

Would you care to be friends, Mark?" "Yes," I said too quickly. Witch Princess laughed, but there was sadness in her eyes. "I won't hurt you, Mark. But please, if you come across the Harvest Goddess" – she wrinkled her nose and almost spit the title – "tell her to stay away from me." I nodded.

"Alright, Witch Princess." She nodded and walked over to a very large black pot set over some kind of pit. I hadn't noticed it before. Or had it simply appeared when I wasn't looking? She opened the book again and sat down on empty air. "Now, if you don't mind, I am very busy. I'd like to have tested this potion before Witchkin gets back. I have the most delightfully evil prank to play on her." I could tell she wanted me to leave. "You won't hurt her, will you?" I asked as I stood up

. The sadness was back in her eyes, and I wondered why. "No," she said softly, "It's just a joke. I won't hurt her. She's my niece." She scowled as if this was an awful fact. I smiled slightly before I bid her goodbye, not even glancing back at the explosive door on my way to the boat.

**A/N: I think Witch Princess is one of the most interesting HM characters. I wanted to write a fic about her and Mark. **


	2. Chapter 2: A guinea pig

**Disclaimer: Not mine. At all. Sigh. **

_Chapter 2: A guinea pig _

I paid Gannon to build me a barn the next day, but my mind was on other things. I went fishing with Denny the next day, trying to ignore his constant jabbering about how wonderful Lanna was.

"She's so great, and she loves fishing too," he went on, jerking his line back. He had caught this fish without even trying. "I'm sure she is," I muttered, frowning at my still line.

Denny frowned at me. "You're not really into this, are you, man?" he asked. My line quivered and I jerked back, only to be disappointed. "Fish bones," I muttered.

Denny laughed cheerfully, and caught a large fish. I was thinking about throwing them away, but then I remembered Witch Princess saying she liked them for her potions.

After yesterday, I told myself I would stay away from Mystic Islands; anything completely opposite of the Harvest Goddess's goodness couldn't be exactly saintly. But now I wasn't so sure. "The Fireworks Festival is coming up soon," Denny continued, "I think I'll ask Lanna to go with me."

He looked over at me curiously. "Who are you going to ask?" he wanted to know. I shrugged. "I don't know, Denny. Maybe Sabrina." Denny frowned.

"You think that's a good idea? She has a thing for Vaughn." I snorted, and jerked my line back again when it pulled against me. A boot. Great. "Yeah, I know, but _he_ doesn't seem to care for _her_."

Denny nodded thoughtfully. "No, he doesn't. He likes Chelsea." I looked at him, a little curiosity flaring despite my preoccupation. "And how do you know this?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I hang out with Vaughn sometimes. At the Café, or at the beach. He's cool, once you get to know him." "I don't _want_ to know him. He seems like a jerk." Denny shrugged. "He kind of is, but aside from that." He nudged my shoulder.

Quiet about that now, man," he said quietly. I looked over his shoulder. Chelsea was on the seaweed rock – it was bare, now, as it was summer – laughing about something.

In her hands, she held Vaughn's hat. He stood next to the rock, amusement in his eyes. I had thought before that his eyes were the weirdest in the world. But then I met the Witch Princess . . . "They're cute together," Denny approved. I shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so . . ." I stood and stuffed the fish bones and the boot into my rucksack. "I have to go now, Denny. See you later." Denny didn't pester me about where I was going. He was cool like that. "Okay, see you, Mark. Don't forget about the Fireworks Festival. It'll be awesome!"

He started gathering his huge pile of fish. I passed Charlie and Eliza on my way; she was talking to him about how she wished he was more mature. Charlie was only-half listening – he was staring in the window of Gannon's house.

I passed Lanna, too, and she wanted to know where Denny was. I told her and she hurried off in that direction. I passed Sabrina, too, and she smiled politely at me, commenting on the sunny weather again.

When I passed Julia and Elliot outside the Animal Shop, it seemed like the whole island was trying to keep me from Mystic Islands when Julia wanted to talk to me about the Festival. "Who are you asking?" she wanted to know.

It wasn't an invitation; she was obviously going with her nerd, Elliot. I shrugged and edged away from them. "I don't know, Julia – does it matter?" She shrugged, and I hurried away. I was angry when I was stopped yet again, this time by Taro.

"Mark! Start preparing – they'll be a storm tomorrow!" he said loudly. "What? But we just had one last Sunday!" I said in exasperation. Taro shrugged.

"Can't change the weather, boy." "But we can predict it," I said sarcastically. Taro scowled at me. "Go on, git," he said. "Soon," I promised, "I just have to go somewhere real quick."

I didn't stick around for Taro's reply – I knew it would be some kind of disapproval. Pierre said good morning to me, and was confused by my answering glare.

"Mystic Islands," I all but snarled at the poor driver. He frowned at me, but we began traveling. "Something wrong?" he asked. I sighed. "Just flustered, I guess." "Did you find out about that house?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied. He didn't probe. "They're done building the church. There's two new people here." I smiled.

Two more people who might know the location of some sunstones. "Go and meet them if you get the chance," the driver suggested. I nodded.

"Alright," I muttered, though the idea was furthest thing from my mind. I was on the dock before the driver had completely stopped the boat, despite his protests about safety

. I thanked him before making my way to the pink house, scarcely glancing at the beautiful new building standing next to the Harvest Goddess' pond. I knocked on the door and almost instantly it flew open, but there was no one standing behind it. "Come in, whoever you are," Witch Princess's voice was harsh.

I cautiously walked into the house. Witchkin was nowhere to be found, but Witch Princess was pacing the floor, her expression furious.

Next to her, the cauldron – if indeed that's what it was – bubbled and hissed with some kind of green liquid. A few of the bottles that had been full yesterday were now bone dry, but they were placed back on the bookshelf with care.

Witch Princess glanced up at me, irritated. "Oh, it's you, Mark. What is it?" She still sounded annoyed, but her voice wasn't as harsh as before. I reached into my rucksack and pulled out the fish bones.

"I caught these yesterday, and I have no use for them." I held them out to her. She picked them all up and examined them with interest.

"Aw, yes, these will work," she murmured to herself. She tossed all of them into her cauldron. The liquid hissed even loudly, and a little fell onto the floor, where it sizzled as if it were alive.

Witch Princess smiled widely at her concoction for a second, but then she seemed to remember her previous fury. She scowled unhappily and started pacing again. She glanced back up at me.

"Thank you very much, Mark. I was just about to head out and look for that." I nodded and stared at the liquid. I wanted to step forward very much, but I was nervous.

She was angry, and the air around her seemed to cackle and twist menacingly. "Come sit if you like, but I will be very busy," she informed me.

She levitated in the air again, and suddenly a long brown spoon appeared in her hands, and she started stirring the liquid around, ignoring the noises it made. "Witchkin brought _seven _frogs back here yesterday – seven live frogs." Her tone suggested disgust.

"What happened to them?" I wondered. "I had them killed, of course. Witchkin knows not to bring the filthy things around here, and I was reminding her of the rules as long as she lives in my house. She's lucky I allow her gross stuffed frogs within a few thousand miles of my bears." I wanted to question her about her love of bears, but I decided to remain silent. I would ask her when she was in a better mood.

"After I destroyed them, Witchkin had the nerve to murder one of my bears!" Witch Princess sounded as distraught as she did angry, but I wondered why. The bears, after all, were stuffed, and not real. Or were they? I looked around nervously, but none of them moved at all.

"She's been gone since then, but she knows I'm concocting something to put her in her place. If you can, try to get her to come back. Tell her I'm sorry about the frogs." Her expression indicated she wasn't sorry at all.

But then she looked up at me and smiled. "And then maybe later we can collect toadstools together. Wouldn't that be fun?" I smiled at her absurd idea of fun.

"Yeah," I said, and I was surprised to find that I was being honest. Witch Princess suddenly looked a little embarrassed – a little blush was on her cheeks and part of her white-blonde hair hid her face. "What is it?" I asked, concerned.

"Well . . ." she sighed and levitated in the air so as to be looking into the cauldron – it was that big. "Yes?" I pushed. She bit her lip. "This is the first time I have used this particular potion. I wasn't joking yesterday when I asked you to be my guinea pig if I should need one."

I was suddenly afraid. I didn't really want to, yet I felt a strange urge to make her happy. She saw my hesitation and said quickly, "It won't harm you in any way. I told you I wouldn't."

She looked utterly sincere, and, though it was probably unwise to trust a witch, I agreed half-heartedly. She smiled and floated down to her bookshelf. She grabbed a very small empty bottle from the shelf and filled it with the restless liquid.

She landed on the ground again and walked over with grace. The shiny skull caught the sun shining in through the window and flashed menacingly. Her dark red eyes were inviting, but they were also kind. It was unnerving.

But I ignored my instincts and took the bottle from her. The liquid sizzled and cracked and bubbled, and I took a deep breath for courage before I drank the contents of the small bottle. It wasn't foul, as I had expected it to be.

Instead, it was actually quite sweet, tangy almost. At first, nothing happened, and then I started to get dizzy. I dropped the bottle and it shattered on the floor and swayed dangerously. She reached out to steady me, but I dropped to my knees

I wasn't in pain, not at all, as she had promised, but nothing stayed where it should. The walls shook before my eyes and the ground shook violently under my feet, as if another mighty island was rising from the ocean's depths.

But there was no earthquake; this was all in my head.

And then, all of a sudden, the shaking stopped. I was relieved. I tried to take a deep breath, but I realized I couldn't. I couldn't even open my mouth. I panicked, but after a few moments, it became apparent to me that my lungs weren't burning and cramping for air.

I got to my feet – and froze when I looked down at my hands. They weren't hands at all – they were long, furry stubs. I looked down at the body that wasn't mine at all. I reminded myself of one of Witch Princess's teddy bears.

A long, full length mirror hung next to her grand pink canopy bed, and when I looked into it I saw that I _was_ in fact a stuffed bear. I looked at the witch in alarm. She let out a loud, triumphant laugh, but when she looked at me her expression was sympathetic.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mark; I should have warned you about what my concoction would do to you." She snapped her pale fingers, and instantly the light mystical red light was dancing along them. She zapped me, the light flying from her fingers and encircling me.

My body – the teddy bear's body – jerked for one quick second, and all of a sudden I was myself again. I was in my own body. I opened my mouth and gasped for air, as if I had been holding my breath for a very long time. When I looked up at her, she was holding a tall glass of water that had come from who-knows-where.

I took it gratefully. "That didn't hurt you, did it?" she sounded confident. I shook my head.

"No, I just got real dizzy – and surprised." She frowned sympathetically again. "I apologize – next time I'll inform you of what will happen."

I refrained from shuddering. Hopefully there wouldn't be a next time. She reached out a hand, and her expression was cautious, as if she was performing another experiment. Witch Princess placed the hand on my shoulder and held it there for a minute.

It felt nice. After a second, she pulled back, happy, like the result she had wanted had happened. She turned to her sizzling liquid and levitated to stir it again. "If you wouldn't mind, would you ask my darling niece to come back?" her tone was sarcastic again.

"She might not listen to you, but it's worth a shot." I had felt disoriented since her test, but I was fine now. Whatever she had done when she was touching my shoulder had taken care of it.

"Alright, Witch Princess," I said, "I'll try to send her back. But I have to hurry – Taro said they'll be a storm tomorrow, and I have to prepare."

Again, she looked slightly embarrassed. "I was planning on doing that tomorrow – that's how I like to take out my anger," she confided. "Oh." I said. I tried to think of a way to ask nicely. "Do you think you could _not_ do it tomorrow? Storms make the animals nervous, even in they're in their homes."

Witch Princess looked curious. "Animals? Are you a farmer or something?" she asked. "Yeah, I am. I've got three chickens and a dog. But Gannon – the carpenter – is building me a barn, and if I know Taro, he'll buy a calf faster than I could."

She chuckled. "Very well, Mark. I'll hold off on the storm for now. Good-bye. Please visit again soon." I might have imagined it, but I thought I heard a bit of longing in her voice.

"Where might Witchkin be?" I asked. Witch Princess thought for a moment. "She might be on Meadow Island, or she could be wondering around Vendure Island.

I wouldn't know – there's no water around now." "Water?" I asked curiously. "Yes," she said, stirring the potion thoughtfully. "I can see things in water – almost anything I want." I believed her.

I had seen enough that I would believe anything she told me. "How…nice," I said. The word was inadequate, but oh well. "Good-bye." I waved as I left. She said so long once more. I decided to ride to Meadow Island first, deep in thought.

Beneath her strong attitude, I wondered if Witch Princess was a lonely. There was no way I could know how long she had been around – did witches age? I didn't think they did. So how long had she been alone? Witchkin didn't really count – Witch Princess didn't seem to particularly enjoy her company.

But I didn't want to bother her if she didn't want me around. There was no way to know without asking, and I didn't know if it would be polite. I wasn't afraid of her anymore – I believed her when she said she would not harm me.

All I knew was that I wanted to see her again, and not all of it was merely curiosity. She was pleasant to be around, enchanting almost.

I found myself thinking about the Fireworks Festival . . . but I had a hard time believing she would come to Meadow Island with everyone there. She was less social than Vaughn, but she had reason, I assumed.

Witch Princess had been right about her niece's whereabouts – Witchkin was wondering around Meadow Island, her eyes scanning the ground. "What are you doing?" I asked as I approached her.

She whirled around in alarm and scowled at me when she saw who I was. "I'm looking for new magic. I was unbeatable at home, but I can't beat my Aunt." She frowned for a minute, and then added, "Yet." "I see," I said.

I thought for a minute about how to phrase my request. "Witch Princess would like you to come home," I told her finally. Witchkin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why? She never wants me to come home. She wishes I would move, back with my parents." I shrugged. "I don't know," I lied, "she just asked me to ask you to come back." Witchkin still looked suspicious. "I will go," she decided, "after I am through collecting."

I shrugged. "Whatever you prefer," I said. She nodded and continued scanning the ground. "Good. Now, get out of here before I turn you into a spider."

I shuddered at the thought of being such a creature. I got out of there quickly, taking her seriously. When I reached Vendure Island, Taro was waiting for me at the dock. "Mark!" he barked, "Where have you been?! It's almost four, and you still haven't prepared!"

I smiled mysteriously at the wise old man. "There isn't going to be a storm tomorrow, Taro," I told him confidentially. He gaped at me for a second.

"What? Of course there will be – I've never been wrong about a forecast, you know that!" "Yes, well, this time _I_ know. Goodnight, Taro," I said abruptly, and headed back up the road, not pausing to hear his answer.

But I was smiling the whole way back to the farm because, for once, I knew tomorrow's weather and Taro did not.


	3. Chapter 3: Toadstools

**Disclaimer: I don't own HM. **

_3: Toadstools_

I woke early the next morning and smiled happily when I looked out the window and the sun was shining brightly in the sky, just like any other hot summer day. I heard a loud knocking on the door, and I yanked on my jeans before I opened the door.

Gannon stood there, towering above me as always. "Morning," he greeted me, "I finished the barn." "Really? Cool," I said. There was no need to inspect it; Gannon was very trustworthy and hardworking. When I approached the new building, I grinned.

It was strong and finely built; it would last a very long time. Inside where two feeders, just like there had been in the chicken coop when it was first built. As I turned to leave, I saw there was a note next to the doors.

_Mark, _

_Finish up your work for the morning and come by Mirabelle's. _

_Taro _

Well, that was abrupt. I fed the chickens, put them inside my fence made of material stone, and let the dog out. I watered my tomatoes and my corn, giving them extra water because the weather was so hot. Then I headed to Mirabelle's.

Taro was sitting on one of the stools alongside the counter, next to his daughter, Felicia. Glancing into the kitchen, I saw Julia and Elliot sitting at the table with some tea. "There you are," Taro said, "Come on back."

He led me into the back room where the animals were. They were well taken care of – Vaughn and Mirabelle did a good job. He led me to a small stall and I peered through the bars. Inside was a small calf, chewing fodder from a large, square feeder. "I already bought her," Taro told me, "for your farm."

"You didn't have to," I answered, though I had suspected he would do something like this. He shrugged. "You'll have to buy the fodder, the milker and the brush. But she'll pay for herself eventually when she starts giving milk." I nodded. I bought a brush, a milker, and twenty pieces of fodder from Mirabelle – I could hear Julia laughing in the kitchen.

They came out into the main room, holding hands and smiling widely. "Hey, Mark," Elliot said. "Hey, El," I replied politely. "So, Mark, have you decided who you're taking to the festival yet?" Julia asked yet again. "Don't bother Mark, Julia," Mirabelle told her daughter, "He's very busy."

I nodded and avoided the question. Taro helped me get the calf to the barn, and I brushed and fed her. She mooed happily and started wondering around her new home. "Take good care of her. What'll you name her?" Taro asked.

I shrugged. Names weren't my thing. "Spot?" I suggested, gesturing to her black and white coloring. Taro rolled his eyes. "Name her whatever you want, boy." "Spot, then," I decided.

I wished I was more creative. Taro left then, muttering about possibly losing his touch when it came to weather-predicting. I smiled to myself. I really should be doing something productive today – looking for sunstones, mining, foraging, cleaning . . . but there was only one thing I really wanted to do.

Again, I wondered if I would be bothering her. But something told me that if I really was irritated her, she would let me know. So, I headed to Mystic Islands again.

I was about to head over to her pink house when I saw a girl with short red hair waving at me. I walked over to where she was, by the Harvest Goddess pond. She was smiling nicely, and I glanced over to the beautiful building I had taken no notice of before.

"Hello, I don't think we've met; I'm Alisa," she said pleasantly. "Mark," I told her. Just then, a man walked out of the church. "Alisa, who's this?" he asked. "I'm Mark," I repeated, "The Island's rancher. I raised these islands with sunstones." The man nodded. "I'm Nathan; it's good to meet you. Were you headed out here to offer something to the Harvest Goddess?" I fidgeted uncomfortably. Somehow I didn't think they would approve of my intentions to see Witch Princess if they were so crazy for the Harvest Goddess.

But I had never been one to lie. "No, I actually came to see a friend of mine." I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. Nathan looked concerned. "Err…you are aware of who lives there, aren't you?" he asked, somewhat nervously. "Yes," I answered. Alisa looked confused. "Who?" she asked, "Who lives there?" "A witch. A real live witch," Nathan said with disgust, "A total enemy of the Harvest Goddess, and therefore an enemy of us."

He turned back to me, his expression still concerned. "If you know what's best for you, Mark, you'll avoid her. She's bad company." "Have you ever met her?" I asked, irked.

"I don't have to. She's a witch and she hates the Harvest Goddess. What other reason do we need to avoid her?" "She's not like you think," I almost snapped. Nathan sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, friend. I'm just giving you advice I honestly hope you follow."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. Nathan sighed again and headed back into the church. Alisa stared at the pink house on the other island. "Is there really a witch there?" she murmured, more to herself than to me. "Yes, but Nathan's wrong about her," I defended. She looked at me curiously.

"Do _you_ know her?" she asked. "Sort of," I replied honestly, staring at the ocean waves and refusing to meet her eyes. She shuddered. "Well . . . uh, it was nice to meet you." Her voice was unconvincing. "Yes," I agreed, "Goodbye now." Alisa nodded and I left. I didn't look over my shoulder, but I could almost feel her eyes on my back.

When I got to the Witch Princess's house, the door was strangely open. I didn't want to be rude by simply going in, so I knocked. There was no answer. Curiosity won over politeness, and I went inside. The cauldron was gone, and the lights were, too.

Bears and frogs littered the floor as usual. Most of the potions were gone from the back shelf; only a few remained, and they were quiet, unlike the cackling and sizzling I was used to seeing. I was about to leave when, out of nowhere, I heard Witch Princess's voice, and I jumped.

"Don't go, Mark," she said. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, something began to take shape in front of me. One second she wasn't there, and the next she was, standing in front of me and smiling happily. I put my hand over my heart.

"You can't do that," I told her, but my voice was not harsh. "You'll give me a heart attack." Witch Princess laughed. "I'm sorry – I saw you through the window, coming on the boat, and I eavesdropped on your conversation with the Harvest Goddess followers." She scowled suddenly. "You were there?" I asked, blushing. "Yes – invisibility spells are very convenient." Her expression was suddenly grateful.

"Thank you for defending me. Not that it was needed, of course," she added quickly. I shrugged. "Sure. They had no right saying that stuff." She studied me for a second. Vaguely, I realized that I really uncomfortable under her dark red eyes anymore; I was merely curious as to why she stared. "What?" I asked finally. She shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing."

She turned and frowned at her almost-empty potion shelves. "I need to collect more ingredients today," she murmured to herself. She turned back to me. "Today I'll settle for getting some toadstools. Are you busy?" she asked. I _should_ be, I thought to myself.

"No," I lied. She laughed. "Lying is an unattractive quality, Mark. But I'm no saint, either." I blushed again and tried to hide under my blue cap. Her voice turned oddly gentle. "If you're busy, I can do it myself. I've been doing it myself for a long time," she mused.

"How long, if you don't mind my asking?" I had been dying to know. She smirked, and fidgeted with her skull symbol. "Thousands of years, I suppose. I've lost count. Anyway" – a basket suddenly appeared in each of her hands, and she handed one to me, ignoring my gaping expression – "We'll use these to collect, if you'll help me." I nodded.

"I'll come." But then I frowned. "Witch Princess," I began. She looked curious. "I haven't ever seen toadstools are here. Maybe there'd be some on Mushroom Island, but I don't have enough sunstones to obtain it." I sighed. She snapped the fingers of her free hand. She reached into the deep pocket of her purple dress and pulled out an object I had learned to recognize long ago.

"I thought you mentioned one of these before, and I came across one when I was out." She handed me the bright red sunstone, and I smiled. "Thanks – eleven more to go for Mushroom Island." Witch Princess looked thoughtful. "It would be nice to not have to travel so far for ingredients, but that's the price I pay for marvelous potions. Anyway, we're not collecting toadstools here, silly. We're going quite far away indeed."

I was suddenly a little nervous. "Won't that take a very long time?" I asked. She snickered and held out her hand. "Trust me," she said. I did. I wondered when that happened. Nevertheless, I took her hand, and she closed her beautiful eyes and murmured something so low I couldn't hear.

And then I blinked and we weren't standing in her house anymore. Instead, I now found myself in a very big forest, with towering trees covered with moss and plants I had never seen before. The whole place was stunning, but it was disorienting to be in one place and suddenly find yourself in another.

I staggered backward and leaned against a tree for a minute, while she scanned the ground. She smiled when her eyes landed on a large patch of deadly-looking mushrooms. "Help me gather these, please, Mark," she said, bending down to begin. I came over to help her, trying not to look at the ugly mushrooms.

"Where are we?" I asked. She shrugged. "I don't keep track of where I am on the map when I travel like this. But I often come here for ingredients. It generally has everything I need." For a minute we worked in silence and, when both our baskets were about half full, something occurred to me. "How did that prank go with Witchkin?" I asked, "I told her to go home, but she threatened to turn me into a spider."

Witch Princess scowled. "She would pay dearly if she did that," she said darkly. I shuddered. She calmed herself and continued gathering. "It went smoothly. I got her to drink it, and she turned into a stuffed bear, just as I planned."

"Like I did?" I asked. She chuckled. "Yes, like you. She didn't take it as well, though. She stomped around and hit things, but of course she couldn't speak. And I know how much the bears disgust her, so I kept her like that for several hours. When I changed her back, she stormed out of the house and I haven't seen her since."

"Maybe she went back to her home?" I suggested. I heard a bird cawing somewhere high up in a tree, and I was reminded of the black bird Denny sometimes had on his shoulder. Witch Princess frowned. "No, I'm not that lucky. She'll be back, I'm sure."

"Won't she try to get you back?" I asked. Witch Princess chuckled forebodingly again. "Not if she knows what's good for her." It was silent again, and I finally asked her the question I had wanted to ask since we met. "Witch Princess . . ." I trailed off.

"Yes?" she sounded preoccupied. "I hope you don't think it's terribly rude of me to ask," I said slowly, "But, is Witch Princess your real name? Or is it just a title?" She stopped gathering, and suddenly was very distant, remembering things I couldn't possibly imagine.

"The last time someone asked me that," she said at last, "was a very long time ago." She stood up. "And he's long since dead now." "Is that your way of avoiding the question?" I asked. She ignored that. "No, I was just remembering. But you're right, it is just a title. Using first names seems so personal, and Witch Princess is more respectable anyway."

"You use my first name all the time," I pointed out. "You don't have a title," she retorted. She sighed. "But if you must know, my real name is Tianna." "Oh," I said, "That's pretty." She snorted. "Would you like me to still call you Witch Princess?" I asked, not taking my eyes from the mushrooms. But she was quiet for so long I looked up, and her expression was almost calculating.

"No, I suppose I know you well enough for you to call me Tianna." She nodded once to herself and started gathering mushrooms again. I let the silence go on after that, and it was comfortable. When the baskets were full, she smiled happily. She grabbed my hand again and zapped us back to her home. And just like that, I was on one of the Sunshine Islands again.

She took my basket from me and placed both on her large table. "Finally home, are you?" I whirled around to see Witchkin, sitting on her green canopy bed, a thick book open on her lap. "Yes we did, little niece of mine," Tianna said pleasantly.

Witchkin made a face at her and went back to reading her book. "I've been studying, you know. I'll probably beat you in no time at all." Witchkin sounded triumphant. Witch Princess rolled her eyes. "You never learn, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to me. "I feel bad, taking up so much of your time. Allow me to assist you with some of your tasks. I'm sure they can be done quickly with my help." She sounded confident.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "It will make me feel better," she insisted. "What has to be done?" "Well, I've wanted to mine lately, but it's a little dangerous, what with the pitfalls and all. I can't tell you how many times I've passed out down there." I thought she looked concerned all of a sudden, but it might have been my imagination.

"Yes, I will come help with that." She zapped us to Volcano Island, and we suddenly stood outside the mouth of the large, uninviting cave. I was disoriented again. "Do you do that whenever you go somewhere?" I asked. She shrugged. "Not always. It's quicker, but a walk is nice sometimes. Witchkin hardly ever does it." I pulled out my hoe. "I have to dig around for the stairs. Hopefully I don't find a pitfall first." I sighed and took the first swing.

Witch Princess frowned. "How dreadful," she murmured, "But easily fixable." "What's that?" I asked, taking another swing, having found nothing the first time. She didn't answer, so I stopped working to watch her. She stared at the ground for a long time, her eyes distant, focusing on something.

Finally, she looked back up at me and smiled. She walked with purpose to the left and gestured to a spot next to her. "Come over here, but avoid that part and that part," she instructed, pointing to a spot to my right and one in front of me. I stepped around it and made my way over. When I was there, I raised the hoe and dug. Sure enough, the stairs were there, waiting to take me deeper into the mine. I gaped at her. She laughed.

"Witch, remember?" she pointed to herself. The skull emblem on her cape-thing shone even in this dim light. We made our way down the mine until I found several diamonds, emeralds, and stones needed to make accessories. I would ask Charlie about that later.

I used the flashlight I had brought down to look at my watch – it was almost five. "I've got to get home." Tianna grabbed my hand from behind and zapped us in front of my farmhouse. The sun was setting – it was even prettier if you were at the beach. I turned back to Witch Princess and she looked thoughtful. It struck me that she was very beautiful in this light, and I blushed for thinking it, turning my head to hide it from her.

"Huh," I said. She looked curious. "What is it?" I shrugged. "Nothing; I've just never seen you on Vendure Island before. It's weird." She laughed enchantingly. "I've got to get back – I left the brat alone in my house with my bears," she realized. She scowled, and I saw that she was beginning to disappear. "Wait!" I cried. She suddenly snapped back into full-focus. "What?" she asked, looking alarmed.

I hadn't really had a reason for asking her to wait; I just wanted her to stay, but I quickly thought of something. "Witch Princess, err, Tianna," I corrected myself. She raised an eyebrow. "Do you know about the festivals we islanders have every month? They're pretty cool, and the Fishing Contest and the Fireworks Festival are both coming up very soon. They're both held on Meadow Island," I explained.

"Yes, I know about them." Tianna told me, sounding a bit bored. "Well . . ." My throat was dry. "When you go to the Fireworks Festival, you're supposed to bring a date. Would you like to go with me?" The last sentence I said rather softly.

She blinked and was silent for several minutes, first looking surprised, then nervous, and finally sad. "What?" I asked, not wanted her upset. "I would like very much to go with you," she said finally, "It's just that I don't talk to people much. It makes me uncomfortable." "You seem fine around me," I hedged. She sighed.

"You're different, Mark. I can't explain why or how, but you are. Not everyone is accepting of witches." She said this sadly. "Maybe that's because you're a fan of practical jokes," I said. She gave me a dirty look. I laughed, not nervous at all. I realized my fear of her had disappeared entirely, something I realized with great relief.

"No, seriously," I said, suddenly solemn, "it's just because they don't know you, and you know how people are stereotypical. If they got to know you, they'd love you like I" – I caught myself just in time. I had been about to say 'love you like I'm beginning to' and that would have been catastrophic.

"Like you what?" Witch Princess asked. Her eyes sparkled with some emotion I couldn't read. She was good at remaining unfathomable. "Nothing," I said uncomfortably. "I really don't want to go to Meadow Island and be around everyone. But we can walk the Fireworks from outside my house if you want. We'd be farther away, and the view might not be as great, but still . . ." Tianna trailed off.

It wasn't exactly was I wanted, but I should be leaping for joy that she wanted to watch with me at all. "It'll be a lot of fun," I enthused. She nodded. "Yes, I've seen Fireworks many times. I'm a little bored of them, to be honest, but it'll be different this time, I'm sure, because of my company." I blushed, and she chuckled. "I must get back. Witchkin is up to no good, I know it."

"Oh, wait a sec," I said, remembering something. I pulled the boot I had caught this morning out of my rucksack. "Do you like this as much as the fish bones?" I asked. She recoiled as if I was holding something vile.

"Ugh, no, no thank you. But my brat niece likes them." She took the very end of it and held it away from her body. "Uh, okay," I said. She wrinkled her nose.

"I . . . I might come by tomorrow, if get time. The Fishing Contest is coming up, and I still don't have anything good," I said tentatively. I could take you to a beautiful fishing spot where you're guaranteed to catch something big," she told me, "I've been to such places." I wondered idly for a second if there was somewhere she _hadn't_ been.

"Thanks, but I would feel like I was cheating," I said. She shrugged as if that was no big deal. "Oh well, I hope I see you tomorrow, Mark. I like it when you come over. Spending too much time with the brat drains my sanity." I blushed again, but there was no hiding it this time. "I like coming over, too, Tianna," I said. She smiled a little, waved goodbye to me, and disappeared before I could blink again.


	4. Interrogation

**Disclaimer: I don't own any HM games or characters **

_4: Interrogation _

Spot was a lot more of a handful that I had pictured her to be. She needed to be brushed, and eventually milked, loved and fed. The chickens required much less attention and drained less of my energy.

But this is what farming was all about, and I might always be a little tired. It was worth it. When Spot was an adult, I would build her a fence and plant some grass for her. She was still just a little calf, though. I wished she was older so I could get the money I needed from the milk; it was draining my money to buy fodder and chicken feed constantly. I had been thinking about getting a horse, but they weren't on Mirabelle's animal-order list.

I would ask about it later. I put my three chickens in their little pen, and let my dog, Bandit, out. He followed me and watched me while I watered my corn and tomatoes. I gave him several pats on the head before leaving my land. I was set on catching a huge fish today – I was going to beat Lanna this year. She had won the last year.

I had wondered if Denny had picked her – he's the judge – because he had a crush on her, but when I saw Lanna's fish, I knew that wasn't the case. Denny is fair, anyway. I fished for several hours, but I was exceedingly bored the entire time. I caught several fish bones, a few empty cans, six small fish, four medium-sized, and one large.

The large one was big, but not compared to Lanna's last year. I gave up and went over to ship the fish, all of them, saving the bones and cans. I had gotten quite a bit of money from the jewels I had found – well, the jewels _we_ had found – and I was thinking about buying a larger rucksack.

I could certainly use the room . . . but I found myself walking in the direction of the boat rather than Chen's shop, and I sighed, knowing where I was headed.

I still found Witch Princess rather intriguing because of her magic, but it was so much more than that now. Baffled, I climbed onto the boat, trying to figure out what this other emotion was. I didn't have a clue. The driver raised one eyebrow at me.

"Do I even have to ask?" he said.

I shook my head and laughed. "To the usual, please."

He sped off and soon enough pulled alongside the dock of Mystic Islands. I hurried to Witch Princess's house. Witchkin was leaning up against one of the long wooden stumps, the end coiling around a lantern.

"I wouldn't go in there now, guy," she said, "The old lady is losing her mind." She had a large book in her lap again.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"A spell book." Her tone implied that it should be obvious.

"I see," I said, trying to be polite.

"Seriously, if you have a brain at all, you'll leave now." The warning in her voice sounded genuine.

"Are you out here because you're scared?" I almost snapped.

She was downright impolite, and it made me want to be mean right back. Her eyes narrowed. "Watch it, Mark – I can turn you into a bug just as easily as the crabby lady in there." She pointed towards the house as she spoke.

I ignored her words and knocked on the door anyway. She shrugged. "You're funeral, I guess," I heard her mumble.

The door was yanked open from behind. Witch Princess's eyes sparked with fury. "Mark," she snarled, "Now's really not the best time." She looked angry – really and truly furious.

I shuddered for a second and stepped back, frustrated with myself that the fear had returned. I thought it wise to heed her advice and leave, but another part of me wanted to stay and find out what had upset her.

"Are you alright?" was the first good question I thought of. She blinked and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Yes, I am fine," she said evenly.

"You don't look like it," I told her.

She sighed and fidgeted with the skull symbol. "Maybe it'll help to talk about it," I encouraged. She stared at me for a long minute before shrugging and gesturing for me to come in. I stuck my tongue out at Witchkin before I went in, and she glowered at me.

Tianna leaned against the wall and ground her teeth together. "What is it?" I asked gently.

"The Harvest Goddess," Witch Princess snapped, "She has shattered my peace once again."

"What happened?" I pushed.

She glared out the window, in her enemy's general direction. "I had the most hideous dream last night," she almost hissed, "We were locked in battle, and she won in the end. She _won. _The ridiculous, stupid, impossible idea of it all."

I was bewildered for a second. "So you're this upset over a _dream?_" I asked incredulously.

She glared at me. "For thousands of years," she finally said, "The Harvest Goddess has been my enemy. The mere sight of her makes me so mad I could just . . ." The air around her literally seemed to cackle with electricity, and outside, I heard a loud _crash!_

I was at loss for how to comfort a witch, so I settled on how I would comfort a normal person. I put a hand on her shoulder and said that it was alright, that it was just a dream.

She stared at me calculatingly for minute, but she no longer seemed as angry. "Do _you_ think the Harvest Goddess could beat me, Mark? Do you think she's better than me?" she whispered.

I really thought about my answer. I knew the answer she wanted to hear, but I wanted to be honest. "I don't know the full extent of her abilities," I hedged.

She stiffened and looked sad. "But," I said quickly, "I know she isn't _half_ as great a person as you are."

She half-smiled. "You really think so?" she asked.

"Yeah, I . . ." I trailed off, but it had to be said. "I really like you, Witch Princess."

She smiled wider, and the skull emblem seemed to glow eerily. "I really like you, too, Mark," she told me. And I was happy.

***

When I returned to my farmhouse that night, after putting the animals away, I was surprised to find a note on the table.

_Mark, _

_I won't be at my house tomorrow; I have some things to do. Witchkin will be staying, though, so I'll hurry back soon to my beloved bears, and to you. I wish you luck at the fishing contest; did you catch anything good? I'll probably be very busy for the next few days, so if you come over soon, I might be preoccupied. I'll find the time for the fireworks, though, I promise. See you later. _

_Witch Princess (Tianna) _

I wondered for a second how she had gotten in my house, but then dismissed it. It didn't really matter. After all, I had been in her house a _lot. _I was surprised that it said 'back to my beloved bears, and to you'.

To put it another way, she basically said 'I'll hurry back to you'. I thought that was something only couples did. I had heard Chelsea ask Vaughn once to hurry back to her once before he got on the boat that took him back to the city.

I had heard Julia tell that to Elliot when he had to leave her house early to do shipping work.

I had even heard Lanna mutter it to Denny once, though it was so low I'm not sure he heard.

It certainly wasn't something I would expect Tianna to say, but then again, she was anything but predictable. I wondered if she was dealing with the strange conflicting emotions I was faced with now, but I guessed not.

I would think a person who had been alive for thousands of years would know how to sort out their feelings. So what exactly _did _she feel? What did she think of me? Did she categorize me as just her friend, someone who dropped by her house a lot, or something more? Why did it matter to me so much?

This wasn't just the vague curiosity I usually felt; I really, _really_ wanted to know. When I started this ranching job a year ago, I was so focused on building up my farm, raising the islands and collecting sunstones that I had never factored love into the equation.

Wait, love?

I shook my head to myself. No, love was definitely the wrong word. I didn't love her; I probably barely knew her; she was so cryptic.

These types of thoughts were still running through my head when I heard a loud knock on the door. Sighing, I went to answer it. It had begun to drizzle, a nice relief from the summer heat, and Denny stood there in the rain, smiling widely when he saw me.

"Hey man, I just came by to remind you about the fishing contest tomorrow. Are you entering?" he asked.

"Not this year, Denny. I didn't catch anything good, and Lanna would just beat me anyway."

He snickered and walked past me into my house, flopping down on one of the wooden chairs. "Yeah, she could beat anyone. Except me, of course," he added quickly.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure." "Are you at least coming to watch?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll watch," I said. He nodded. And then he smiled wider than before. "I asked Lanna to go with me to the Festival," he told me, "and she said yes."

"That's great, Denny, I'm happy for you," I said politely.

"Julia's going with Elliot, Natalie's going with Pierre, I'm going with Lanna, and I'm not sure if Chelsea will go. Vaughn's not on the islands on Sunday," he said thoughtfully.

"He might get time off," I mused. Denny shrugged. "He might. Guess we'll find out then, huh?"

I fidgeted uncomfortably. "Actually, Denny, I don't think I'll be there, either," I mumbled.

"What? Why? Gannon and Chen organize the whole thing – it'll be awesome!" Denny cried.

"I know, I know," I said. I hesitated for a minute, but then I just decided to tell him the truth. "I _will _be watching the Fireworks," I confided, "I just won't be watching them on Meadow Island."

"That's where you'll get the best view," he commented.

I shrugged.

"Where will you watch from?" he asked curiously.

"Mystic Islands," I told him, "With someone."

"Who?" He looked suspicious.

"Have you ever been there?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No, I've been way too busy organizing the contest."

"Oh," I said, "Well, I met someone there – she's great."

"Really? Huh. I thought for sure you'd end up with Regis's daughter," Denny mused.

I shrugged. I had thought so, too, once upon a time. "I don't think so, but . . ." I trailed off, unsure of what I wanted to say exactly.

"What's her name?" Denny asked, "And why haven't I met her?"

"You sound like a girl, Denny," I teased.

He looked offended, but still waited for me to answer his questions. "Her name is Tianna," I told him, "And she doesn't like . . . well, she's not really a people person per say."

"Like Vaughn?" asked Denny.

"No, worse than him. She . . . she's different from everyone on the island."

"Why are you being so dang cryptic?" he complained.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I lied, "Maybe you can meet her soon. I'll ask her if that's okay."

He shrugged. "Okay." He stood up abruptly and punched my arm lightly before headed to the door. "See you tomorrow, slacker," Denny said, and then he left.

***

I wasn't the type of person who had dreams very often. Generally, I slept very easily and restfully, but when the dreams did come, they weren't good ones. This one wasn't necessarily bad, though; it bordered on annoyed.

_I am standing beside the Harvest Goddess's pond, and she half out of the water, smiling angelically at me. "Hello, Mark," she says pleasantly, "It's been so long since you've come to see me, so I came to see you."_

"_In a dream?" I ask in irritation._

"_Yes." Her smile is huge. "It's one of my favorite ways to visit people."_

_I frown. "I see," I say._

_Her smile suddenly disappears and she looks sad. I wonder if I have said something wrong._

"_I've been observing you lately, and I see you aren't heeding my advice," she says disapprovingly. _

"_What advice?" I ask stupidly. _

"_Tianna the Witch is not good company. She is evil. You should stop seeing her at once." Her voice is not commanding and cruel; it is gentle and loving, the way a mother might command her child, nice but firm._

"_I think she's wonderful," I snap back_

_. The Harvest Goddess frowns again. "She is perfectly dreadful. Whatever act she puts on around you is false. She is evil to the core," she insists._

"_You don't know her," I sigh, exasperated._

_The Harvest Goddess laughs unexpectedly. "I know her much better than you, Mark. _You_ don't know _her._"_

_I step back from her, scowling. "Whatever" is the first thing I think of to say._

_The Harvest Goddess seems to sigh. "I can see we aren't going to agree, are we?" she murmurs._

_I shake my head defiantly. The dream seems to flicker around the edges . . ._

***

I was more annoyed than before when I woke up. Now I could understand Tianna's fury for the Harvest Goddess appearing in her dreams. The Fishing Contest was today, and, glancing at the clock, I saw it was already nine. I raced through my morning chores, leaving the chickens and the dog in their homes since I wouldn't be back till after dark.

My tomatoes and corn were coming along nicely; I might have a nice piece of corn for the Crop Festival. I hurried down to the dock, where the driver waited, as always. "Meadow Island?" he asked. I nodded and hopped on board.

There were many people there, some I recognized, some I didn't. Three people I had never seen before; they probably came from different lands to compete. Taro, Natalie, Felicia, Elliot, Denny, Lanna, Charlie, Eliza and Gannon were all there; everyone else must have had plans. Denny smiled at me as I walked up to him.

"Hey, we're all ready to start."

"Kay," I said, walking back to stand with the small audience.

"Break a leg, Lanna," I whispered as I passed her. She smiled at me and stood next to the three visitors. Denny smiled at the audience.

"Let's introduce the contestants . . ." he began.

He went on to say who each person was and where they were from, but it didn't really matter to me so much. He lingered when he was introducing Lanna, telling everyone that he knew what a magnificent fisher she was.

She smiled at him brightly.

Denny cleared his throat and continued his little speech, "It was very difficult to pick a winner this year; it was very close. But the winner of the fishing contest this year is . . ." He paused to increase the suspense.

Then his eyes landed on the winner adoringly. "Lanna!"

She beamed, and all clapped as Denny presented her with the prize money. "Why didn't you enter, Mark, dear?" Felicia asked.

I half-smiled at her and shrugged. "I'm no fisherman, that's for sure," I told her.

She laughed. The losers of the contest went back to Vendure Island, probably to the Hotel to pack up their things and leave. The rest of us hung around, chatting and laughing. I congratulated Lanna on her victory.

"Thanks, I knew I could do it!" She replied happily.

When six o' clock rolled around, I excused myself to go home. I wished I could stop by Witch Princess's house today, but she wasn't there . . . I sighed. Just thinking about her brought back the strange emotions I couldn't understand. I slept restlessly that night.

***

"Oh, Mark, how wonderful to see you. Did you win the contest?" Witch Princess asked me, floating next to her cauldron.

The previously empty shelf behind her was now stuffed with all kinds of potions, all sizzling and cackling the way I remembered. The sounds were strangely comforting now. She was working on some green bubbling potion now, but I hadn't bothered to ask what it did. Witchkin was nowhere to be found.

"No, I didn't even enter. I didn't catch anything good," I grumbled. She didn't look at me when she spoke again; she was staring at a thick book on her table.

I couldn't figure out how she was able to read what it said; the table was a good ways away from her, and the print was tiny.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, not really paying attention.

I shrugged. "Not your fault."

A long period of time passed while she worked, and finally her dark red eyes flickered up to me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mark, but I told you I might be preoccupied, remember?"

"Yeah, I was very surprised to find your note," I said.

She laughed. I had missed the sound. Then she went back to work. I was just looking for something to say, because I wanted to hear her voice, but it might have been stupid to say what I did next.

"I can understand why you were so upset the other day – you know, about the Harvest Goddess being in your dream?"

Instantly, her head snapped up to look at me, her eyes narrowing. The air around her cackled again, the same way it had before. "Why?" she asked lowly.

I hadn't meant to anger her, but I had to answer now. "She appeared in a dream I had the night before the Contest," I confessed, trying to sound nonchalant.

"What did she say?" Tianna landed on her feet and walked over to me, her hand closing the thick book on the way there. It might have been my imagination, but I thought the skull emblem was glowing again – but this time it had a slightly reddish tinge to it, though the black was still there.

It was creepy. I wished she would get rid of the skull thing.

"Just something about finding some sunstones," I lied.

The skull's red glow became more pronounced. "You're lying," she told me, her lips pursed. "Please tell me the truth." She was trying to calm herself, I could tell by her deep breaths.

"Why does it matter?" I tried to avoid the question.

"Because it _does,_" she snapped. I sighed. "She was just…well, warning me. About you."

Witch Princess gritted her teeth. The skull was completely red now. "That . . . that . . ." The cackling in the air around her grew more intense. "I would hurry home to prepare if I were you," she finally said, "There'll be a storm tomorrow."

I didn't question her. Not because I was frightened; I refused to feel fear. Instead all I felt was compassion for her anger, her distress. "Yes," I said.

I got the feeling Tianna didn't want to be comforted, or spoken to anymore. Without another word, I left the house.

Witchkin stood, ten feet in front of me, smiling. "Got a temper, doesn't she?" The little witch asked.

"Yes," I admitted. "Now if you'll excuse me . . ."

She let me by, smirking.

When I got back, I put extra fodder in the feeder for Spot, extra feed for the chickens, and extra food for Bandit. I hoped the storm wouldn't be too bad; I didn't want my crops blown away. I still didn't have the money for a greenhouse. I frowned.

I foraged for the rest of the day, finding lots of blueberries and sea urchins. And herbs, of course. My mind wasn't really on the task, and I might have ignored several fellow islanders who said hello to me. In the back of my mind, I began to think that maybe I was drifting away from my fellow Islanders, and that saddened me a little.

By the end of the day, my rucksack was so stuffed I went into Chen's Shop and bought a bigger one. Afterword, I put a lot of my stuff in the fridge and left the rucksack on the table. It was eight at night now, and I was tired. More than tired, I was worried.

I hoped Tianna wasn't as angry anymore. I had been a fool to bring up the subject in the first place.

Just as I was settling into bed though, a strange shimmering in the air I recognized appeared. I blinked, and suddenly she was there. The skull was its normal silver color now, and Witch Princess had a mixture of emotions on her usually unfathomable face.

She looked angry, shameful, and sorry all at once. A long silence dragged on before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry for this morning," she said softly.

I shrugged. "No big deal."

"It just makes me so _angry_," Tianna continued, ignoring my words, "Because the Harvest Goddess has no right to tell you what to do. She also has no right to speak to others about me. I mean, I'm the _Witch Princess_ for crying out loud!"

She looked cautious when she looked at me and spoke again. "What exactly did she say about me?"

I hesitated, unwilling to tell because of her previous reaction. She understood. "I won't freak out like before," she murmured, her dark red eyes seemingly genuine.

I believed her.

"She . . . she told me how bad you were. Evil, really. She also said that how you act around me isn't really you." I wondered if that last sentence even made sense, but it seemed to for her.

Anger sparked in her eyes before she calmed herself. Slowly, she walked over and sat down on the end of my bed. She sighed and fidgeted with her cape-thing. Now that her anger had fallen away, I saw that behind the mask she was _sad. _Her expression was positively depressed, as if she had just realized something that was abhorrent to her right then. The skull was now tinged blue.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently.

She sighed again and then looked up at me, somber and solemn. "Mark, do witches scare you?" she finally asked.

I blinked at her and really thought about my answer. "Well, Tianna, you're the only witch I know . . ." I began.

She waited with wary eyes.

"No," I finally said, "No, they do not scare me."

I was utterly sincere, and I wasn't lying. Not about her, anyway. Witchkin freaked me out a little. She seemed satisfied, knowing I had spoken the truth.

"Do you think witches are suspicious and evil?" she asked.

I thought for a minute again. "I think they really love to play pranks," I said, trying to be lighthearted.

Her expression was still somber, not buying into the humor. I sighed.

"A little mischievous maybe, but not evil," I told her.

Finally, the grave expression fell away and she half-smiled. "Do you think witches are _pretty_?" she asked.

I blinked at her, and hesitated, though I didn't need to think of an answer for this one.

"Yes." I smiled at her. "Yes, I really, really do."

Her answering smile was huge, and the skull emblem was glowing again, but this time the tinge was yellow and not red.

"Do you think farmers are cool?" I asked.

She snickered. "Yes. Very, very cool."

We laughed softly to ourselves for a while. "Are we still on for the Fireworks Festival?" I checked.

She nodded. "Yes, definitely." Her voice was distant, deep in thought. The skull was still tinged with yellow.

"Why does it do that?" I finally asked. I had been dying to know.

"Why does what do what?" she asked.

Hesitantly, I reached out and touched the skull symbol holding her cape-thing together. It was warm. "Sometimes this glows red, or yellow, or it shines," I murmured, "Why?"

She smiled, and blushed a little. It was very pretty. "It reflects my emotions," she told me, "Red is angry, Blue is sad, and Yellow is happy," she explained.

"How neat," I said, releasing it. She stood and brushed off her dress. "Well, I just wanted to talk," she said.

"Will there still be a storm tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes, if you don't mind. They're awfully fun to make. I promise it won't be _too_ strong." I was a little disappointed, but I wanted her to have some fun.

"Alright then. Good night, Tianna." It was a big gesture, and I wondered afterwards if I should have, but without thinking, I stepped forward and hugged her.

I heard her gasp in shock, but after a second, she hugged me back. We stood there for what seemed like a very long time, not speaking.

Finally, though, I let go and stepped back, blushing. She looked slightly dazed, as if in a trance.

"Goodnight, Mark," she murmured, and disappeared before my eyes.

**A/N: BTW, the crash Mark heard one one of Witch Princess's lantern-stump things falling over. She fixed it by the time he came to visit again. **


	5. News

**Disclaimer: I do not own HM**

_5: News _

The Fireworks Festival was in exactly three days time.

I didn't get much done the next day; the storm was as horrid as I'd expected it to be; wind, rain, hail, thunder. I was glad I had prepared my animals; I would feel awful being trapped in here, knowing they were hungry.

Storms scared the chickens, though, so I would have to deal with their stress for a while. And Spot, I had no idea how she would handle it . . . I wished Tianna hadn't made a storm today.

I didn't do much that day; I ate too much and doodled on an empty notebook I found in my nightstand. I wished Witch Princess would appear in my house and visit again; I missed her.

I snorted to myself at this fact; I had seen her less than twenty four hours ago. I was getting pathetic. And for all I know, she doesn't even notice, much less care, about my absence. I sighed and started drawing, not really paying attention to what I was creating.

When I was done, I realized I had drawn a pair of very dark eyes, closely resembling Witch's.

I sighed again and started doodling aimlessly below them. This time, when I looked, I saw I had drawn a figure hanging from a tree by a rope, resembling Witchkin.

I snickered to myself and put the notepad away. Finally, after a dinner of curry, it was an acceptable time to go to bed. Thankfully, the Harvest Goddess stayed out of my dreams.

***

I went about my morning chores as always the next morning, enjoying the sun shine. I had to go to Mirabelle's for some chicken feed before I headed to the usual place, and hurried there, eager to get it done.

But when I went in, Mirabelle wasn't in her usual place behind the counter, even though it was Sunday.

"Hello?" I called, annoyed.

"Mark? Mark, is that you? We're in here, come in." I heard Mirabelle's voice call from the kitchen.

I walked inside.

Julia was leaning against the counter, crying. Elliot had his arms around her, and she was leaning her head on his shoulder. Mirabelle didn't look upset; instead, she was beaming with joy.

It was a very confusing situation to walk into. "What is it? What's going on?" I finally asked, concerned.

I walked over to stand next to the three of them. Julia looked up, smiling through her tears. "Mark, guess what?" she sniffled.

"What? What?" I asked again.

Elliot smiled widely at her as he let go of her and Julia held up her left hand. On the ring finger, was a pretty diamond ring.

"I'm getting married," she said softly.

I was bewildered for a second, dazed. "To whom?" I asked.

Elliot frowned and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Me," he said with obvious delight.

I blinked. I knew they had been dating for a long time, but I hadn't thought it was _that_ serious. They seemed happy enough, though, so I smiled politely at all three of them. "How great," I said lamely, "Just great. When's the ceremony?"

"A week," Elliot replied, that same giddiness in his voice.

"Oh, you'll come, won't you, Mark?" Julia asked.

Her tears had stopped, and she was rubbing her eyes, somewhat embarrassed.

I nodded. "Yeah, of course I'll come."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" She turned to her mother. "Oh, I have to go tell Chelsea, Natalie, Sabrina and Lanna!" she squealed.

"And everyone else," Mirabelle added happily, "It will be a beautiful wedding. Nathan and Alisa are very attentive, you know."

Julia nodded and seemed to ponder something for a second.

"What is it, dear?" Mirabelle asked her daughter.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just thinking about the maid of honor situation. My two best friends are Chelsea and Natalie, so . . ." she paused and turned her fiancé. "Has Natalie ever been anyone's maid of honor? I know Chelsea hasn't."

Elliot thought for a minute. "Yeah, she used to be friends with this girl Beatrice, and Natalie was maid of honor when she got married."

Julia nodded again. "Chelsea, then. Natalie will understand. She'll probably want Vaughn to come, though – and so do I. He's family, after all." She beamed happily. "So we'll probably have the wedding on Monday."

"Vaughn can't get one day off?" Elliot complained.

Julia shrugged. "I don't know – Vaughn's a workaholic. Chelsea might be able to convince him, though . . ." she trailed off. "I'll go find her," she decided.

"Come on then," Elliot took her hand, and they started walking away. "Bye, Mark, don't forget about Monday – or Sunday, whichever!" Julia called.

"Won't," I reassured her.

I heard the door click behind them as they stepped into the summer heat. Mirabelle stared after them with glee in her eyes. She turned back to me. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear? Was there something you needed?"

"Some chicken feed," I mumbled, not wanting to intrude on her little moment.

She nodded and walked behind the counter in the next room; I followed. She asked where I wanted them, and I said the feed dispenser, as always. "I'll have it sent right over," Mirabelle said.

She was still a little choked up. She was about to leave the counter when she realized I hadn't paid. "Err…" She held out her hand.

I snickered and gave her the money. "I'm really happy for them," I said honestly, "I think they'll be good for each other."

That last part I wasn't so sure about, but of course I didn't say so. "He'll be a good son-in-law," Mirabelle commented.

Then she looked a little mischievous, reminding me of Tianna. "What about you, Mark? Think that'll happen to you any time soon?" she asked.

"What? Getting m-married?" I stuttered, but I wasn't sure why.

Mirabelle laughed and nodded. "It seems a lot of folk have paired up around here. Elliot and Julia are getting married, Chelsea's with Vaughn, Denny's with Lanna, and I heard Elliot's sister is starting to date that chef guy, Pierre."

I shrugged, blushed, and avoided her eyes.

"I always thought you would end up with Regis's daughter, what's her name?" Mirabelle mused.

"Sabrina," I said.

"Aw, yes, her."

"I don't think so, Mirabelle . . . I'm still putting all my focus on the farm, you know," I lied.

She nodded understandingly. "Yes, I'm sure."

I fidgeted uncomfortably before stepped back and saying an awkward goodbye. "Bye, Mark," Mirabelle said nicely.

I saw Julia and Elliot talking to Chelsea down the road, by the bridge that led to Sprout Island. Chelsea was all smiles, and then she threw her arms around Julia.

"Of course!" I heard her say, and I assumed Julia had asked about the maid of honor thing.

I pondered idly who Elliot would ask to be his best man; there was no one in particular I saw him hang around with much.

He might ask Denny; the fisherman was good-natured to everyone and very kind.

Possibly Pierre, though I didn't think so.

He wouldn't ask Vaughn; I don't think I've seen them speak once.

But then again, I've only seen the cowboy talk to Mirabelle, Julia, Chelsea and Denny, so . . . I barely noticed when I got to the dock; it was lucky I didn't walk right off the edge and into the water.

I climbed in with a polite hello to the driver. He didn't bother to ask where I wanted to go; it was quite obvious now. To my surprise, Witch Princess was waiting outside her house with two baskets in her hands, the same ones we had used to collect toadstools in some foreign place.

She smiled widely at me and gave me a basket. "I thought you might be by today, though you're later than usual," she commented.

I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. She didn't question further. "I do hope yesterday's storm left your farm unharmed?" she asked lightly.

"Everything's fine," I reassured her.

She nodded in self-satisfaction. "I've made storms five times bigger than the one last night," she told me, "Yesterday's was child-play."

I didn't know what to say to that. Just then, Witchkin walked out the door, closing it behind her. I pursed my lips, remembering my earlier drawing of her. "I'm almost done collecting magic, old lady," she said triumphantly, "My new spell is sure to leave you in the dust." Without waiting for a reply, the little witch disappeared into thin air.

Witch Princess rolled her eyes. "She'll never learn," she muttered, more to herself than to me, "She will never learn a spell that I do not know." She almost sounded snobbish; I snickered softly.

She looked curious again but didn't ask. "I thought we'd collect more ingredients today," she said, "and then afterwards I can help you with one of your chores, like we did last time."

I shrugged. "Sounds good," I murmured. But it sounded more than good. Just the thought of spending the day with her sent my heart into overdrive and joy spreading throughout my body.

Like I said, pathetic.

She nodded and held out her hand for me to take. I did so without hesitation. The forest she took us to was another forest, though it was different from last time. What was strange was that there were no squirrels, birds, rabbits or other wild animals here; I noticed that quickly as we made our way down the path.

"This forest is a little odd," I commented.

She smiled. "That might be because I made it," she said.

I gaped at her. "You _made_ a forest?" I asked in disbelief.

She chuckled. "Yes, I can make many things. But destroying things is much easier." She made a sour expression. And then she seemed to remember something. "Did I ever tell you about my encounter with a wolf?" she asked.

I shook my head.

Her grin widened as she recalled. "Well, since I made this forest, I know my way around it like the back of my hand. Now one day, because I felt tricky, I stopped and asked the wolf for directions, pretending I didn't know the way. I had thought this was a rather suspicious-looking wolf, and it turned out I was right. He gave me wrong directions, the exact opposite way of where I had wanted to go. As punishment, I turned him into a bug." She laughed like she had told a very funny joke.

"Are you sure he was lying? Maybe he wasn't sure," I said hesitantly.

She looked annoyed. "Believe me, I could tell. It was there, in his eyes. I'm very good about detecting deception. I did it that one day with you, didn't I?" she asked.

I smiled a little, remembering. "Yeah. Well, I guess he got what he deserved, then."

"You bet he did," Tianna said smugly. She stopped and smiled in delight.

"What is it?" I asked. "I'm looking for the blue mushrooms – there's patches and patches of them here! I'll collect from this side, and you from that side," she said eagerly, turning to the right side of the path.

I turned, eager to help her, but then I frowned. I didn't see any blue mushrooms – just the regular, brown kind, tree roots and thick greenery.

I looked over to her and saw that she appeared to be scooping empty air into her basket, holding it as if it was a real, tangible thing.

"What blue mushrooms?" I finally asked in frustration.

She looked up at me and blinked, her expression as confused as I was. But then she smiled, and laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, Mark, I completely forgot – blue mushrooms are invisible to the human eye. I'll just collect them myself. I do apologize," she said sincerely.

"You see blue mushrooms here?" I asked, still confused.

"Yes, I can. But you can't, because you're human," she said.

I frowned. "There's not much difference between you and me, you know," I said finally as she kept collecting.

After I spoke, she kept on doing it, but at a much slower pace this time. "I myself have noticed that," she said softly.

"The only real difference," I said, my voice rising as my frustration increased, "is the magic stuff. And the not-aging thing."

She shrugged and stood up strait, her basket apparently full. "Yes, I suppose that's it," she murmured, staring at me with an odd look in her eyes. "But why does it matter?" Witch Princess finally asked after several minutes of staring.

"It matters to me," I insisted, "Because, because . . . well, if we're not so different after all, maybe we could . . ." I struggled to find a way to end my sentence. I knew how to say it in my head; I could phrase it perfectly. I just couldn't seem to say it.

"Maybe we could . . . . ?" Tianna trailed off. Was she really so oblivious? Had I not revealed my feelings at all? Well, if she didn't know, it wasn't worth saying.

"Nothing," I sighed, "Nothing. Let's get back – I don't feel very well."

And it was true – my stomach was in knots, and I was faintly nauseated, but the feeling was all in my head, I was sure. She looked a little frustrated and disappointed for a split second, but then a mask of pleasantness was on her face again.

"Very well then," she said. She took my hand and we stood in front of her house again. She took both baskets into her house, though mine was empty. She returned after several minutes.

"What shall we do for you today?" Her voice was light-hearted, but I knew her well enough to know something was brewing beneath the surface.

"We don't have to do anything." My voice sounded cold, harsh almost.

She blinked and crossed her arms. "Fine," she snapped, "That's what we'll do, absolutely nothing."

"It seems like that's all you want to do," I snapped back.

"I _just_ offered to help you with work," she snarled angrily.

The skull icon was glowing a vicious red now. For some reason, it frustrated me to no end that she didn't understand I wasn't referring to work.

"Whatever," I growled.

I turned on my heel and stormed over to the dock. "Vendure," I almost spat at the driver. He looked irritated, but he took me there. I didn't even glance over my shoulder as we drove back.


	6. Fireworks

**Disclaimer: I don't own HM. **

_6: Fireworks _

The first thing I thought of the next morning was the fact that today was the Fireworks Festival.

Vividly, I remembered my fight with Witch Princess and wondered if I should still come over to her house tonight. I felt embarrassed and ashamed for initiating the stupid argument. It was childish and immature.

It wasn't her fault she hadn't known what I meant; how could she have known?

I wasn't sure how to apologize. She might not want to see me at all. I got out of bed and did my morning chores robotically.

By five in the evening I was convinced I should stay in my own house that night, perhaps with some alcohol or whatever else was in the house. I went down to Vendure Island for a walk, not really sure why.

Maybe it was because I was bored; maybe it wasn't. But either way, it was a beautiful evening, perfect for the fireworks, and I was hit with a wave of pain and longing, thinking about how there wouldn't be a witch around to share them with.

Julia and Elliot were walking, hand in hand, down to the dock, presumably going to Meadow Island of bit early. I walked down to the beach and listened to the peaceful sound of waves crashing against the shore.

"Hey, man, shouldn't you be getting over to Mystic Islands?" I turned to see Denny and Lanna walking over, both with big, idiotic grins.

"Change of plans, Den. I'm not going." I desperately tried to keep the sadness out of my voice, but I wondered if they heard it.

"Come down at watch on Meadow Island, then, Mark. You can sit with us," Denny encouraged.

Lanna pursed her lips sand glanced sideways at him, annoyed.

"'S okay, man. Thanks, though."

Denny shrugged and took Lanna's hand. "Kay, see you then."

"Bye, Mark," Lanna called as they hurried away.

All around me, the Island was quieter and stiller than I had ever seen it. Everyone had left for the Festival; the silence was almost eerie. I shivered in the light breeze and stared out at the ocean for quite some time without any serious thoughts.

Just how pretty the ocean looked, how vast it was, crap like that. I decided to go home and wallow in remorse. But as I was passing the shipping bin beside Taro's house, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I whirled and tensed.

"Who's there?" The short, caped girl stepped out of the trees, and it was impossible not to recognize her.

"Witchkin," I groaned, not in the mood to be polite. "What do you want?"

The little witch seemed quite irritated as she spoke. "The old lady wants to know where you are. She's getting annoyed, waiting for you. She made a special _romantic_ area for you." Witch Princess's haughty little niece said to me, smirking.

I blinked at her, not comprehending. "She still wants be to come over? But after yesterday, I thought . . ." I trailed off.

"Yeah, I did too. The old bag doesn't get over arguments very easily, you know. She must really like you."

I blushed, and Witchkin giggled. "Go on now, before I turn you into a frog." Her eyes lit up. "You'd be much more attractive that way."

I rolled my eyes and locked my fingers together so I wouldn't do something rash. The little witch smirked at me again and, as I had grown accustomed to, disappeared in thin air.

The driver was just pulling up alongside the dock from taking everyone to Meadow Island. He jumped when I approached.

"Oh, Mark, I didn't see you. Want to go somewhere?" he asked politely.

I nodded and smiled at him, embarrassed about my previous behavior toward him. "Mystic," I said, climbing onboard.

He looked a little curious. "You know there's a festival today, right…?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes; they know I won't be there," I said.

The driver shrugged and we started to speed away. I couldn't deny my happiness; I was almost giddy knowing I would see Tianna very soon. I stood outside the pink house in a few minutes, smiling wider than I ever had. The door of her pink house opened before I had a chance to knock. Tianna looked irritated.

"Where have you been?" she asked, "Did you forget our plans?"

"No," I answered honestly, "I thought you might not want me to come, what with what happened yesterday…"

Witch Princess shrugged and fidgeted with the skull; the reddish tinge on it was lessoning now. "Yes, well, I can't say it didn't confuse me, but it's all in the past now."

I couldn't believe she was letting it go so easily. I breathed a sigh of relief; I didn't want to talk about it. We walked over to the edge of the island, where land meets sea, and she spread out a nice blanket for us. I did a double-take when I saw what she wore.

She still wore the cape-thing with the skull as always, but she wasn't wearing her usual purple dress. Instead, she had a on a long black dress that shimmered slightly when she moved; it was very beautiful. When she glanced over, though, I looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

"I told Witchkin to stay away for a while," she said, settling down on the blanket.

I sat next to her and smiled. "Yeah, well, she found me just a minute ago." I told her about our exchange.

Witch Princess looked very puzzled.

"What is it?" I asked anxiously.

"I never told my niece to fetch you," she said.

I was just as perplexed as she. "You didn't? But she said you were wondering where I was, and that you wanted me to come," I stuttered a bit as I said this, fearing that maybe she _didn't_ want me here after all.

"It just confuses me. Why would Witchkin tell you I wanted you to come?" She looked over at me and said hastily, "Not that I didn't want you to. I _was_, in fact, wondering if you would come at all, after yesterday."

I sighed. "I wasn't going to – I didn't think you'd want me to. No offense, but you don't let go of things very easily."

She chuckled. "No, I don't. I'm confusing myself as to why I'm being so lenient about it – I never do that," Tianna confessed.

I smiled. "You must really like me then, huh?" I teased.

She blushed and smiled. "Yes, I do."

We sat in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, before she broke our stare and said, "Maybe Witchkin likes you more than she lets on."

I laughed at the likelihood of that. "She probably likes _you_ more than she lets on," I said, "You are, after all, her Aunt."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, I am. Trust me though – Witchkin doesn't like me, and never has. It is _you_ she did this for."

"I'll have to thank her later," I mused.

Just then, the first firework shot up into the sky and exploded into a thousand bits and pieces. "They're beautiful," she commented.

"Yes," I agreed, "Beautiful." But I wasn't referring to the fireworks. I stared at her as I said it.

She smiled and took my hand. I was surprised; the only time she did that was when she was going to zap us somewhere. But the gesture was different now – affectionate, tender almost. I smiled happily.

We watched the fireworks go off for a very long time, neither saying a word, but I liked it that way. The show seemed to end much too soon, but Tianna sighed and looked at me. "Want to come in for a little while?" She didn't give a reason, but she didn't have to.

"I should go home. It'll be sunny tomorrow – _again – _and I have work to do. Taro's starting to notice my slacking." I laughed.

"Just a few minutes," she insisted.

"Alright." I shrugged – I didn't want to go yet.

We folded up the blanket and went into her house. She set the blanket on the table, clapped her hands, and it disappeared.

"You're pretty tonight." The words came out of my mouth before I had thought them through.

She looked a little startled, and put a hand on the dress. "Thank you. I don't often dress up." She chuckled and sat down on one of the wooden chairs next to the table.

Unsure of what else to do, I sat down across from her. "So…some people I know are getting married soon," I offered to fill the silence.

She blinked and lots of emotions flickered across her face: annoyance, jealously, joy . . . finally she settling on a look of polite interest. "Marriage, eh? I'm quite envious of you humans."

I stared at her like a gaping fish. "Witches don't marry?" I finally asked.

She shrugged. "None that I know of – but then again, I've met only about six others. We're very rare, you know." She commented nicely.

I could tell her mind wasn't really focused on our conversation; she was deep in thought, and whatever she was thinking wasn't pleasing her. I nodded as if this was a known fact. "I see. Well, _you_ could marry, if you really wanted to," I informed her.

Witch Princess suddenly had a glint in her eyes. "And to whom would I marry?" she asked me, smiling slightly. I blushed and looked away. "Whoever you want to," I mumbled.

"It would be difficult," Tianna said softly, "to find someone who didn't mind my being a witch."

A few seconds passed; I needed them to gather my courage. "_I_ don't mind, Tianna," I almost whispered, "You know that already. If I minded I wouldn't be running to your house every day to see you."

Another silence; this one was longer. She lifted one white-blonde eyebrow. "What are you implying?" she finally asked.

"The very _same_ thing I was implying yesterday," I shot back. I pursed my lips, angry at myself. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have said that. But it's true," I couldn't help but add.

Witch Princess suddenly had a look of false innocence; she looked like an angel. "I don't believe I understand," she lied.

My eyes narrowed. "You already know, but I'll say it anyway," I sighed, and took a minute to think. "I . . . I like you, Tianna. I like you a _lot._" I'd already said that before, but it didn't matter. I was much too early to be saying things like _I love you_, at least out loud.

That thought stopped me cold. Love . . . I had pushed the idea away earlier, laughed at the thought of it. Because it was too soon to fell things like that. And it was ridiculous, too – how could I feel that way, when I had no idea if she returned those feelings?

She nodded at my earlier statement. "I see," she murmured.

I suddenly wished I hadn't sat so far away; so now I stood and walked over to where she sat. Her face was openly expectant. Slowly, holding her eyes, I got down on my knees and took her hands, so at least I wouldn't be looking down at her as I spoke.

"When I come over here every day," I said after a silence of some time, "I feel very happy – no, more than that – I feel almost _giddy._"

She snorted, but it wasn't out of scorn; she was amused. "Hmm," she said, "You must _really_ like me, then."

I nodded. "And I want to spend more time around you. From everything you've said to me, it sounds like you don't believe you could ever get married, or anything like that. But I . . . I think you're wrong. I think we could be like any normal couple; the only difference is you're a witch and the rest of the girls on the Island aren't. Big deal."

She looked joyful for a split second, but the next she looked calculating, and finally, sad. The skull's blue tone reflected that. I wondered what I could have possibly said to make her sad.

"I don't age," she said finally, "I don't like to be around people. I am the enemy of the Harvest Goddess; someone who is said to be the source of everything that is good." Her eyes sparked with anger. "What will others think when they hear you are with me – _me_, the one is supposed to be exactly the opposite. Evil. Dark. Hateful and cruel. Do you think you would do so well on this island if everyone here despises you?" She almost spat at me.

The skull had shifted to a vicious red color without warning. I hadn't expected such an outburst; I stopped for a second to assemble my thoughts.

"They don't know you," I said, "Do you remember when I was talking to Alisa, and they said the very same things? Remember how I defended you? I really meant everything I said, Witch Princess. And everyone could get used to it after a while – it would just take time. A month, maybe longer. But what is a month to you?"

"Nothing that all," she admitted, "But you have no way of knowing for sure. I don't want to cause you trouble, Mark. I know you've worked very hard in the past year, and I know that someday in the future you'll be majorly successful. I won't be your downfall."

I scowled at her, the anger rising up inside me before I could stop it. "If these people on Sunshine Islands are really my friends – and I think they are – then they'll accept whoever I choose to be with, enemy of the Harvest Goddess or not!"

Tianna scowled at the floor. "It just can't work, Mark," she said, "I've thought about this a lot. We're just too different." Her voice held ancient sadness.

I wanted to break something. I whirled and kicked one of the chairs over. "Calm down," she ordered.

I gritted my teeth and faced her again. "But I could work! It could! Why aren't you giving it a chance? Do I mean nothing to you?" I almost spat in my fury.

The skull was instantly a glowing red color. Her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke, she was almost snarling. "Is that what you think? Then you're just like the rest of them – all of them! Assuming I don't care, that nothing matters to me besides my magic." Her eyes were burning with fury, and I knew I was feeling equally vicious.

"That's not true!" I yelled, "I know it's not! But you obviously don't lo – _like_ me as much as I do you!" The word almost slipped through my lips again in my anger, but I caught it in time.

She had noticed it, I was sure, but chose to ignore it. "I don't age," she said again, abruptly. The skull was less red now, and I relaxed a little in turn.

"What's your point?" I asked, truly confused as to why she brought it up.

"You'll die a lot sooner than I will. I don't know about you, but I don't think I could handle it if you died while I was . . . with you."

I could understand her point. "It doesn't matter to me," I insisted.

She sighed. "I like tormenting people," she said, "I _live_ for that kind of thing. I make powerful and destroying storms that probably kill people out on the ocean. Hell, I might have created the storm that caused _you_ to wash up on Vendure Island!"

I gaped at the very real possibility. "And you think that's something to be ashamed of? I was looking for a better life when I got on that boat – you helped me find it!"

She became exasperated. "It cannot work, Mark. It just . . . can't." She didn't even bother to give further reason; she turned away from me crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't think you believe that," I said honestly, "I think you're just scared."

She whirled to face me again, irritated. "I am afraid of _nothing,_" she snarled.

I sighed. "Whatever." I was about ready to leave. I could tell this conversation wasn't going anywhere I wanted it to go. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wouldn't work out. But as I thought this, I felt a very real, very deep pain in the place where my heart was, and the feeling made me want to vomit on the floor. I had to say something that would convince her, something that would make her believe . . .

She was fuming in front of me, but as I stared at her with sadness undoubtedly written all over my face, her expression softened, and she was suddenly sad, too. The skull glowed a heartbreaking, light shade of blue.

I knew what I had to say. I knew what I _wanted_ to say. I stepped forward and took both her hands in mine, and stared into the eyes that had frightened me so much at first, and yet now they seemed to be the most beautiful eyes in the world. "I love you, Tianna," I said, my voice firm and sure.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. She had obviously not been expecting me to say that. I could imagine what would happen next. I could imagine her throwing her arms around me and saying she loved me, too, that she had been foolish before and we would have a happily ever after.

I could imagine all these things, and the joy that filled me at the idea was staggering. By the time I was through with the brief fantasy, I was almost convinced that there wasn't any other ending, nothing else she could say. Anything else would be downright _wrong. _So the hurt and agony that I felt when she stepped away with a pained expression on her face was indescribable.

"I think you should go," she whispered. I stared at her, shocked.

"But . . ." _Wrong, wrong, wrong, _my brain screamed at me. She still looked sad, but also determined, and she gestured towards the door impatiently.

"Fine," I said.

If she wanted me to leave, I would leave. If she didn't want the happily ever after, then so be it. She was a witch, after all. Why would that kind of thing appeal to her? I blocked all the negative emotions from my mind; I would deal with the hurt later. Right now I needed to appear strong.

She didn't need to know how much her words affected me. Comparing my mortal self with her power, I was pathetic.

But in this moment, I was better. I was stronger.

With my face wiped clean of all emotion, I turned and walked out the door. I marched to the dock and the driver took me back. He tried to ask if I enjoyed the fireworks, but my silence told him to shut up.

I didn't pause on Vendure Island to notice the eerie silence as I had this morning. I didn't pause for anything. I went into my farmhouse, shut the door and sat on one of the wooden chairs next to the table.

Back here, alone, my previous feeling of bravado melted away, and I was hit with the pain I knew was coming. If someone had asked me, a few years in the future, what exactly I did for the rest of the night, I would say absolutely nothing.

It felt like I was drowning, or falling into some deep pit. It was the most horrible emotion in the world. That night, as I sat there, staring at the wall, a large part of me was dying.


	7. Leaving

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands**

_7: Leaving _

The very next day, I was numb inside. But I was determined to go to Witch Princess's house and tell her that I respected her decision, that if she didn't want the same thing I wanted then it was okay.

It wasn't like I could force her to do anything. Everything I would tell her was a lie, of course, and she would probably know it, but it had to be said. I would tell her that we could carry on being friends, though I very well knew that after last night, nothing would be the same again and we would drift apart, getting to the point where I barely every saw her.

Nathan, Alisa and the Harvest Goddess would probably be happy about this, and I would despise them all for it. I mechanically went through my morning chores, putting the chickens in their pen and letting the dog out. I thought that maybe, sometime in the future, I would get over this, get on with raising islands and building a successful farm.

I pictured myself marrying someone, but every time I did, no matter whom the bride was, the image in my head morphed without my permission and the bride became Witch Princess.

I sighed, knowing this would torment for years to come until I forced myself to stop altogether. I walked robotically to the boat. I finally remembered that the driver's name was Kirk.

"Morning, Mark," he said nicely, "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

My expression must have silenced him again, because he looked away as I climbed in.

"Mystic, Kirk," I mumbled.

We were there far sooner than I wanted to be. I stepped onto the dock and started heading to Tianna's house. The door stood open, but I didn't have the energy to wonder why. Witchkin stepped through the door before I could go in, and she looked up at me with an annoyed expression.

"You really screwed things up this time, guy. Especially for _me. _How will I defeat the old bag if she's never around for me to challenge?" she whined.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She snorted and gestured inside. "Go on and see."

Hesitantly, I did as she said. I gaped at what I saw. Boxes were everywhere, stacked and labeled neatly. The shelves on the back wall were bare. The beds were no longer in the corners. And the beard and frogs no longer littered the ground. The table was gone, the chairs . . . everything.

There was nothing but boxes.

Tianna stood in front of one, a large black marker in her hand. She wrote something on it, and over her shoulder I read _Biggest Bear._

"Hello, Mark," she said to me without looking away. Of course she knew I was here. Her voice was almost business-like, like we barely knew each other.

"Hello," I answered, my voice curiously dead, "What's with the boxes?"

She sighed and turned slowly to face me.

"Mark," she sighed, "My presence here if obviously going to be awful for you now. I think I should just go." I blinked at her, uncomprehending.

"You mean move? Somewhere else?" I said.

She nodded. "Yes. It's too complicated for me here. And besides, the Harvest Goddess won't be so close anymore."

My mouth hung open, and suddenly I was panicking. "Where are you going?" I sounded like I was choking.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted, "Anywhere where I find solitude."

"You can have it here," I said desperately, "I'll leave you alone, I swear! We don't have to be friends, and you can send Witchkin home! Don't go, Witch Princess. Just don't." I was begging, and I didn't even care.

"I'm really just an awful distraction for you here. You haven't raised one island since we've met, or gathered any sunstones, aside from the one I gave you. And it's clear to me you want something I cannot give. So it's best if I go."

"No," I said.

"I've heard from the villagers that they expected you to marry someone named Sabrina. Go on and do that," she encouraged, hiding her expression from me as she looked away.

I reached up and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Never," I snapped angrily, "I won't. Why are you doing this? You're being such a . . . a . . ."

Her eyes narrowed at me. "Go ahead – say it," she dared. The skull had a reddish tinge.

"A witch," I spat, letting go of her chin and stepping back.

The boxes around her began to disappear, leaving the house bare, and if no one had ever lived there.

"Don't go," I begged once more, forgetting my anger, my insult. "I love you."

She crossed her arms and her expression became unfathomable. "I'm everything everyone says I am, Mark. I don't know what love is."

"You do," I said defiantly, "I know you do."

She shook her head. "No," she said, "I don't." Her voice was so firm, I almost believed her.

"Fine," I said, forgetting my hopes. "Go."

And on that note, she began to disappear, very, very slowly. I didn't even try to stop it. I didn't even care.

But, just before she faded away completely, the mask fell away from her face and she looked just as sad and hopeless as I felt, and I knew what she had told me was a lie.

***

Three weeks. That was how long ago Tianna left, taking all her things and my happiness with her. Witchkin left just a day after her Aunt, stopped by to say goodbye and that she was going home. I had asked, without much hope, if she had any idea where Witch Princess had gone.

"Not a clue," Witchkin admitted, "But at any rate, I'll find her eventually." She smirked and disappeared almost instantly.

After that, I felt like all emotion had left me and I became something of a human robot. The animals could sense my mood, and they grew nervous and uncomfortable.

I didn't water the crops as often as I should have, so a lot of them withered and I had nothing to enter when Felicia came by to invite me to the end-of-the-month crop Festival.

"See you tomorrow, dear," she said sweetly before she left.

People complained the next day about how I had nothing, and someone from Mineral Town won. But their words fell on deaf ears. Taro walked over and scowled at me.

"You're slacking off, boy. What's got you so distracted?" he barked.

I sighed and stared at the sea. "Nothing," I lied.

Why should I talk about it? I didn't want to – all I wanted was to be alone with my misery. I left long before anyone else did, and as was my new hobby, sat down in a wooden chair and stared blankly at the wall.

Sometimes I would try and sort through everything I was thinking, but it got all tangled and unruly in my head.

Did she miss me as much as I missed her? Of course not.

But did she miss me at all? Just a little?

The idea that the separation meant nothing to her was nothing short of painful. But then I remembered her expression the day she had gone, just before she disappeared. In that moment, she looked just as tormented as I did.

But then why should she go?

It didn't make any sense.

Fall became winter, so at least there wasn't anything else to water. One of my chickens got sick, and, even in this state I cared, so I bought some medicine from Mirabelle for her. Spot had grown used to my depression, and I took good care of her, so she was rapidly becoming a fat happy cow. But besides my caretaking, I was lifeless.

And the villagers noticed, too.

"Hey, man, what's wrong?" Denny finally asked after many days of me ignoring everyone. What hurt the worst about not talking to anybody was that none of them had any clue as to why I was so melancholy. It wasn't their fault, of course, so it was awful of me to feel this way, but it couldn't be helped.

"I . . . nothing's wrong," I lied.

His eyes narrowed. "Fine, Mark, don't tell me." He stormed off in the direction of his shabby home.

Taro pestered me more and more about what was wrong, why I acted like this, and every time I told him it was nothing, absolutely nothing.

"Then why are you acting like this? Moping around all the time?" he snapped.

"I'm fine," I replied curtly, not even bothering to answer his question.

I worked robotically until a bit after mid-winter, until it became apparent to me that this wasn't going to work anymore. I had started a farm one year ago because it had been my life's dream, my goal.

When I had washed up here on this Island, it was nothing short of a miracle. But Tianna had robbed me of my joy for this. The whole idea of farming was almost dull to me now. But that's how everything was.

Dull.

Meaningless.

Boring.

It took me until a few days before winter's end to make up my mind. Of course I was far too young to retire, but this farm deserved someone who would take care of it because they wanted to, and I didn't.

Not anymore. I could go back to the city and get some kind of job there. I could sell my land and get a nice price for it . . . I knew how Taro was going to react. He would be angry, no doubt, and sad, but wouldn't everyone here?

It didn't matter to me. I trudged through the snow, thinking only about my task. I raised one fist and knocked on Taro's door. Natalie answered it, a blanket around her shoulders. When I came in, I saw Pierre there, too, sitting at the table with a box of note cards, presumably recipes.

"Mark, hi," Natalie said nicely. Her tone was a bit wary. It was like that with everyone now, though; they spoke to me as if I was a walking time bomb, just waiting to go off.

"Hi," I said dully, "Is your grandfather around?"

Natalie nodded slowly and jabbed a finger over her shoulder. I shut the door and went into the back room, where the beds were.

"Do you think he'll ever stop this?" I heard Pierre mutter.

Natalie's reply was too soft for me to hear. Taro sat on one of the beds, turning his walking stick over in his hands. He looked up when I entered the room, wary like his granddaughter had been.

"Mark." He nodded, "What can I do for you?"

I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to put this news that would be devastating for him. I really did care for him, and everyone else on this Island, though they might not know it from how I've been acting.

I'd apologize before I left. "I . . . I don't think I want this anymore," I whispered brokenly, "I want to go back to the city."

Taro gaped at me for several minutes. A lot of emotions flickered across his face before he settled on being annoyed. "You're talking nonsense, boy," he said finally.

"No," I said defiantly, "I'm not. Chelsea can buy my farm – you can teach her how to run it. She'll probably marry Vaughn eventually, and they can run it together."

Taro blinked and was silent again. "Fine," he said, "If…that's what you want, boy. I'll go find her for you." He rose and began walking towards the door.

I put a hand on his shoulder as he passed. "No, that's not necessary. I can do it."

"Alright, then. I have to go tell the others." Taro sounded a bit robotic himself as he said this, maybe disguising his sadness.

We left the house, passing a confused-looking Natalie and Pierre. Taro went into Chen's Shop first. I found Chelsea at the beach, fishing. I walked up to her and stared out into the waves.

"Mark, hi," she said cautiously.

"Hey, Chelsea," I replied in a friendly way. I wasted no time getting to the point. "I'm leaving. Would you like to buy my farm?"

She blinked at me and the silence that followed was awkward. "Leaving? Mark, why? You love that farm; I know you do. I couldn't take it from you," she said kindly.

"I did love it. But it's different now. Would you buy it? I know you'd like it," I murmured.

She sighed, her expression an odd mixture of sadness, longing and concern.

"I . . . if you're honestly sure. I will buy it." I nodded and led her back to my land.

***

I packed by the end of the week, and the boat was set to pick me up and take me back to the city sometime this evening. I had said goodbye to most everyone, and they all had looked concerned, sad and disappointed.

It honestly hurt to say goodbye to them; I loved them all, in a way. Denny had been the hardest.

"This is crazy, man," he'd said.

I didn't see Denny angry very often; it was difficult to get him riled up. But my news had sparked the anger. "It's what I want, Den," I mumbled.

He whirled and scowled at me. "No, it's not. I know you, and I know you're doing this for some crazy reason I'm not aware of. But whatever, Mark. Come back when you've come to your senses." He'd stormed out of the farmhouse without truly saying goodbye.

I watched the waves crash against the shore as I waited on the dock. I'd said my goodbyes to this Island. I would miss it, in so many ways. I happened to glance over my shoulder and saw a figure approaching in the distance.

I got to my feet and squinted. Taro walked out of the evening fog, his expression gloomy. He walked up to me and nodded once.

"Bye, Mark. We'll all miss you. Come back when you change your mind, boy. Chelsea will give the farm back to you, cause that's the kind of gal she is."

I smiled slightly. "I know she would. But I'm" –

He held up one hand to stop me from speaking. "Don't want to hear it," he said, "Just promise to come back if…if you want to."

I nodded, but I was sad inside. They all honestly expected me to come back – the idea of Sunshine Islands' farmer leaving them forever was surreal.

But sooner or later they would have to realize that I wasn't coming back.


	8. Reunion

_8: Reunion_

Chelsea had been generous with her price. I'd gotten quite a bit more than I'd expected, but when I asked her about it, she said she wouldn't give me any less. So when I got to the city, the apartment I purchased was nicer than any place I've ever lived in.

But the sleek, fancy scenery didn't help. Somehow, I'd gotten the idea in my head that if I escaped the Islands and went somewhere far away, my depression would dissipate and I would be myself again. But that wasn't so. I was just as mopey and sad as I had been before.

Until something better came along, I got a job waiting tables at a fairly nice restaurant. Sometimes, though, I would be deeply saddened when I woke up in the morning and realized that there were no farm chores to do, no animals to take care of.

By the time I had been in the city for nearly a week and a half, I questioned if I'd done the right thing for myself and for others. Yes, I finally decided, I did. Chelsea would surely be doing a wonderful job – her interest in farming was just as high as mine, if not higher.

She deserved the land. And it did help a little not to be in the environment where I'd known Tianna. Sometimes, when I still lived on Sunshine Islands, I'd go to the place where her regal pink house still stood.

It had eaten away at my heart staring inside at the empty, barren floor. But here, there was none of that. I only had the memory. When I went to sleep at night, in the king-sized bed, I would sometimes dream that I would comb the planet, looking for her.

Occasionally I did, but most of the time I woke up before that, frustrated. I had mostly accepted that I wouldn't ever see her – or her bratty niece, for that matter – ever again. But it didn't hurt to imagine, did it?

"Hey, buddy, got any change?" A shabbily dressed man asked, huddled in a dark alley.

"No, sir, I don't," I answered honestly. I shivered in the cold breeze as I walked past. I hated passing all these creepy allies, walking down this long sidewalk at night to the restaurant for the evening shift.

I had been so used to knowing everyone around me before; but here, there were strangers everywhere I looked, and I could guarantee that a lot of them weren't good people. The city was crowded with a large population, towering buildings and noisy traffic; the crime rate was high, and the news was depressing.

This was everything I'd wanted to get away from before I'd washed up on the shore of Sunshine Islands. At the time, it had seemed like my salvation, my safety. But now . . . I shook my head and shivered again in the cold, crossing the street after pressing the silver button five times.

I walked fairly far to where I worked every evening; I was considering purchasing a car. I winced as I rounded a corner and headed into a bad part of the city. It was all bad, in my mind, but this was all the deserted buildings where, the broken streetlamps and the creepy atmosphere.

I despised walking through this desolate place, but I had to cut through to get to the nicer part of the city, where the restaurant was located. I walked quickly each night to get out of this place, and this night was no different; I hurried briskly along.

Out of the corner of my eye, though, I thought I saw a bit of movement. I whirled. There was no one there. I turned and started walking again, pushing down the panic rising in my chest. But this time it wasn't movement that made me fear; it was footsteps, heavier, quicker footsteps that I was certain were not my own.

I had just decided to run when I felt hands shoving me to the left, towards another dark alley between two deserted brown buildings. For a second the panic took over completely; I froze, incapacitated with the fear. I tried to turn then, to get a good look at my attacker, but the hands shoved again, forcing me into the dark.

It was almost pitch-black in this alley; a very small part of my brain wondered why not even the moonlight was filtering down. But I did not wonder for very long because at the end, I saw a very tall, very menacing figure standing there.

I got as close as I dared and prepared for a fight – my body tensed, and my fists clenched. I wouldn't be the helpless pedestrian that was robbed of every cent they had on them. I had my wallet in the pocket of my jeans, and it contained a whopping $300. I wouldn't give up.

Being around Witch Princess for that short period of time had given me strength.

_She _was tough.

_She_ wouldn't let anyone mess with her.

Granted, she was a witch, and she had her magic, but even if she was just like me, I was sure she wouldn't be weak. I ignored the part of my brain that said the guy was much bigger than me and I didn't have a prayer.

My fears were worsened when the figure reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a long, vicious-looking blade.

"Give me your wallet, man, and nobody gets hurt," He said threateningly, waving the knife back and forth slowly in the air, toying with me. The collar of his coat covered most of his face, and the darkness of the alley blocked out everything else.

The next rush of fear I felt pinned my limbs in place. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. I wondered if anyone would be able to hear my scream in this part of the city.

"You scream and I kill you," he said.

I wasn't sure how he knew that was my plan. I gritted my teeth together. "Listen, guy, I don't have any money on me," I lied.

He held the knife up at pointed it at me. "That's bull, man, and I know it. Give me the money, _now._" He sounded impatient, as if I was taking up too much of his time.

It would have been suicide to try and run. It would have been suicide to do anything else but reach into my pocket and pull out the wallet. But just as I reached my hand into the pocket, I saw something very strange.

The air around me seemed to sizzle with electricity, and the wind that blew through the alley was absolutely icy. I shivered and paused. And then something extraordinary happened. It happened so quickly that my mind had to catch up afterward.

A strange cackling light had shot out of the sky, landing in between myself and this mugger. The light exploded when it hit; it was so violent it jerked me off my feet. My head hit something hard when I landed. T

here was a grey mist in the air, surrounding where the light had once been, and I squinted, trying to see through it. What I saw made my heart leap and hammer in my chest.

Standing there, with a fury that burned with an all-consuming hate in her eyes, was Tianna.

She glanced down at me once, and then turned to face where my attacker had once stood. The blast had knocked him down as well, and he lay just outside the alley, the knife nowhere to be seen. I slowly got to my feet as he groaned and rubbed the back of his head.

"What the - ?" He mumbled, getting slowly to his feet.

The sight of Witch Princess, suddenly standing there, must have been disorienting to him. He was in the light now, so I could see most of his face. His expression was so bewildered it was almost funny. Tianna opened her mouth in a wordless shriek, raising one hand and jabbing her index finger at him.

"You," she snarled.

The mugger looked somewhat afraid now. Normally, a regular woman – or what he _thought_ was a regular woman – wouldn't frighten someone of his stature, I was sure. But Witch Princess looked truly frightening now.

Her fingers curled into claws at her sides and her expression was so infuriated it was almost deranged. I couldn't help examining her now. She looked just the same as always, with the long purple dress and the black cape-thing, held together by the icon of a skull. It was redder than I had ever seen it.

Witch Princess slowly raised her hands in the air, and there was a red, crackling light jumping around on her fingertips. The mugger looked very afraid now, but he couldn't seem to look away.

Tianna pressed her hands together, and the light grew, got bigger and bigger until she held a ball of sizzling energy about the size of a baseball in both hands. When she looked up at him, she looked almost amused.

"Catch," She said loudly.

And then she hurled the ball at the mugger with all her might. The guy had finally come to his senses and turned, starting to run. But the ball caught up to him before he was five feet away.

My mouth fell open as I watched what it did to him. It was horrifying in many ways, yet I couldn't seem to look away. The light grew as big as the man himself, and it began to engulf him. The mugger looked purely petrified now and he opened his mouth to scream.

The light sucked him into some kind of deep vortex, and then, just like that, he was gone. I stood there, completely amazed, my mouth slightly agape. My mind was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

There was a long silence following the disappearance of my attacker.

Witch Princess smiled grimly and then turned to face me. And suddenly the confusion I was feeling no longer mattered. She was really here. Tianna sighed deeply before she met my gaze.

"Hi," she murmured finally.

"Hi," I whispered, "Can we talk?"

"Alright." She smirked and held out her hand.

I took it eagerly and waited for to do what I knew she would. I closed my eyes for one short second, and suddenly we weren't in the city anymore. She had zapped us to some place I'd never seen before. When I looked out the window, I saw a dark, menacing forest with moonlight filtering down through the branches.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"A forest," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously."

We were in a house roughly the same size at the one on the Island. Her teddy bears, canopy bed, bookshelves and cauldron were in their familiar places. The only thing missing was the extra bed.

"Witchkin never found you?" I asked after a minute.

Tianna hesitated, biting her lip. "She did, the little brat. But I sent her away – I wanted to be alone."

"Oh." I looked away, pained.

Witch Princess sat down on the edge of her bed and stared out the window for a very long time. When she spoke again, her tone was exasperated. "Mark, why did you leave the Island and get a job in the city?"

"How do you know about that?" I asked, curious.

"Never mind that," Tianna snapped, "Answer me."

I sighed and went to sit next to her. "I – things weren't so great after you left. Farming didn't bring me as much happiness as it had before. I was . . . depressed."

"I know." Tianna sighed.

"How?" I asked again.

"I can see anything I want to," Witch Princess told me, "All I need is some water. I was keeping tabs on you; I wanted to see how you were doing. I knew you were sad, but I never thought it'd be enough for you to leave the Island."

I laughed bitterly. "Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?"

She scowled.

Another agonizingly long silence passed.

"Didn't you ever consider Sabrina?" Tianna asked, frustrated.

"After I met you? No, not once. I love _you. _But you already know that." My voice was nearly a whisper at the end.

The skull that held her cape together glowed a soft blue. "So if would seem."

My heart tightened painfully, and I couldn't bring myself to look at her.

"You're really stubborn about this whole thing, aren't you?" Her voice was amused.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Didn't you listen to what I said at all? Nobody will accept me. I am a witch. Representing evil and hatred and" –

"You already told me," I snapped, "And I already told you that you're wrong. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. If they didn't accept you, then they're not really my friends. But they would. They're good people, Tianna."

She sighed and fidgeted.

"It's a moot point, anyway. I know you don't want what I do," I whispered. I waited for her voice, but it was silent again. When I turned my head, I saw that she was staring at me, her expression calculating and slightly amazed.

"You really mean that, don't you?" she asked. I made a face.

"I meant it the first time I said it."

"I'm sorry. I just . . . didn't want to cause you trouble."

"It would have been worth it," I insisted.

"You honestly believe it would work?" She murmured.

"Yes," I breathed, looking away again, "But like I said, I know you don't want it."

I felt a hand on my chin. Slowly, I turned my head. There was resolve in her eyes as she leaned slowly closer to me.

"Mark," she breathed just before her lips touched mine.

Surprised, I froze for a slip second before tangling my fingers in her hair and responding eagerly. When she pulled back, she was smiling slightly. "I _do_ love you. I just didn't think this could work. I still don't. But we can try anyway."

My heart skipped a beat at her impossible words. "You . . . you do?"

I remembered the way she'd looked just before she'd disappeared, her expression so pained it was heart-wrenching.

She certainly looked like she didn't want to go. And her eyes burned with sincerity. She had to be telling the truth.

"I do." She smiled.

"And we're really going to do this?" I asked, my answering smile wide.

Her answer was the most beautiful in the world.

"Yes."


	9. Trying

_9: Trying_

"Really, Chelsea, thanks so much for this," I said, still beyond grateful that she'd agreed to give me both the money and the ranch back.

"It's not a big deal, Mark," she assured me, "Everyone on the Islands . . . sort of assumed you would be back, you know? Taro's been gloating for days."

I rolled my eyes and smirked. "Yeah, I sort of guessed."

Tianna and I had been back home for a total of three days now, and I'd moved back into my cozy little farmhouse. It was amazing, the sense of happiness and even relief that I felt just because things were returning to normal. Of course, my joy also concerned a certain beautiful witch . . .

"Mark? Hello?" Chelsea was waving her hand in front of my face.

I snapped out of my daze. "Oh, uh, sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed.

She shrugged. "I've got to get going – it's Monday, and I told Vaughn I'd meet him at the Café for lunch." Her tone was loving and warm.

It still baffled me that the pair of them were together – she was so sweet and kind, generous and social. He was not. Maybe it was an opposites-attract sort of thing. After all, my girlfriend and I were different in so many ways. But they didn't matter now. I loved her and she loved me, and we were going to make this work.

* * *

Denny found me later that day when I was headed towards Kirk's boat. I wanted to see Tianna again, so at first I was a little annoyed with him. But I couldn't stay that way for long – Denny was so easy to get along with. And he'd been so happy – and a bit smug – that I'd come back, despite my promise that I wouldn't.

It was for these reasons that I didn't make up some lame excuse to get away.

Denny clutched a fishing pole tightly in one hand. "Got a minute, Mark?"

I shrugged. "Sure, Den."

We walked to Sprout Island and cast our lines right outside his house.

"So, how's everything working out for you?" the dark-skinned fisherman asked after a moment of silence.

"Pretty well. Chelsea was really nice about the whole thing. I think she was a little sad to give my ranch back, though," I said, trying to pay attention to the line.

Denny's vibrated ever so slightly, and he jerked it towards him without even thinking. A large red fish flopped onto the beach, slapping bewilderedly around in the sand. "That's cool. But I meant before you left. You were pretty depressed, and you wouldn't even tell me why."

I drew in a deep breath. There wasn't any reason not to tell him. Part of making this work with Witch Princess was about compromise. If we were together, she would have to start socializing with the Islanders a bit. I knew it would be hard for her, but she was going to try. For me. The Harvest Festival was coming in a few days time, and she was going to meet everyone there.

"Honestly, Denny? It was a girl." I sighed. "She left the Islands, and I . . . I don't know. Lost my motivation, I guess."

He didn't seem particularly surprised as he pulled on his line again and a medium-sized blue fish landed next to the red one. "Is this the same one you went to the Fireworks Festival with last Fall?"

"The same one," I agreed. My line was utterly still. It was maddening.

"Huh. I didn't know you were really into anyone. Do we ever get to meet her? Or is she going to continue hiding under a rock?" he asked, smiling slightly.

I explained about the Harvest Festival. "I hope everything works out. I'm kind of worried," I admitted.

"Why? What's the worst that could happen?" he wondered, yanking another fish from the ocean. "Is she wicked or something?"

I sniggered quietly to myself. "Something like that."

I'd decided long ago that it was probably best my fellow Islanders didn't know my love was a witch. It would only frighten them, and what would that accomplish? She'd promised not to do any sort of magic that evening, and act perfectly normal. She'd admitted that this, too, wouldn't be easy, as magic was just something she naturally did without thinking about it.

Denny seemed surprised for a moment at my answer, but then he shrugged. "Can't wait to meet this mystery woman."

"She's so great, Den," I said, "I love her."

His eyes widened. "Really? Huh."

It was quiet between us after that, and I finally announced that it should go – it was getting late and I wanted to say goodnight to Tianna.

* * *

"Don't you dare step on any frogs!" Witchkin bellowed loudly as I stepped through the light drizzle and onto Tianna's tiny Island.

I rolled my eyes. Witch Princess was allowing her irritating little niece to live with her once again, though I knew now that she largely regretted the decision. Witchkin claimed that she'd learned some new tricks when her aunt was 'being lazy'. They had yet to battle it out yet, but Tianna wasn't worried. I wondered idly for a moment if there was a being that was more powerful that her.

The Harvest Goddess might be a worthy opponent, but, even though they despised and bad-mouthed each other, I didn't think they'd ever actually engaged in physical confrontation. I hoped they didn't ever because, truly, I didn't know who would win. I would never admit this to Tianna, of course. "I won't step on your precious frogs," I snapped, going around her to get to the door. She called some threat after me, but I didn't stop to listen. I pushed the door open without knocking, smiling widely at the sight of Witch Princess leaning over a thick book on her table.

It gave me so much joy to look around her large house and see everything back to where it was supposed to be – the potion books were in the back, the black cauldron was set in the middle, and – most importantly – the stuffed bears and frogs scattered across the floor without any particular rhyme or reason.

When she heard me enter, she set her book aside walked over to greet me. "Good evening, Mark." She smiled, her dark scarlet eyes beaming.

I leaned forward and kissed her full on the mouth. "Hi."

She took my hand and led me to the cauldron. "I don't suppose you would be my guinea pig?"

"Always," I agreed.

She floated up to the rim of the cauldron and began stirring the dark blue bubbling liquid with a very large wooden spoon.

As she was doing that, I said hesitantly, "So are you ready? For Thursday?"

Her expression darkened, and the skull on her cape-thing was faintly tainted red. She always got a bit annoyed when I mentioned the Harvest Festival, but I thought it was nervousness more than anything else.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she answered quietly.

"You don't have to do it, you know. I want you to be happy." I attempted to meet her eyes, but she kept them trained on her brewing experiment.

"I have to. I don't want the Islanders to get curious enough about the girl you're with enough to come snooping around my Island. Besides, I can stand to be polite for one evening," she grumbled.

At that moment, the door flew open, and Witchkin stormed inside, stalking to the bookshelf without giving any sort of reason behind her nasty mood.

I smiled. "I wish we could say the same for Witchkin."

* * *

Thursday came much quicker than I would have preferred. I wasn't exactly sure why I was nervous – why should I be? The absolute worst that could happen, I was sure, what the Islanders didn't like Tianna. And even if they didn't, it wouldn't matter to me. So, ignoring that little voice gnawing at me in the back of my mind, I stepped onto Mystic Islands and hurried to her house. Witch Princess wore the same clothes as usual, but her hair was pinned up and shiny black stones that were probably real were dangling from her ears.

"Beautiful," I commented.

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Let's get this over with, hmm?"

I took her hand, swallowed hard, and led her to Kirk's boat.

When we stepped off the dock onto Meadow Island, the first thing she said was, "I have a cauldron three times as large as that pot." She gestured with her chin to where a huge pot sat in the exact center of the Island, filled to the brim with a no-doubt delicious stew.

"Would it even fit in your house?" I wondered, impressed.

She shrugged. "Barely."

Most of the other Islanders were already there. Of course, I hadn't harvested any crops this season, so I brought a chestnut.

Felicia seemed pleased by the addition. "Oh, that's lovely, Mark," she said.

I smiled a bit. "It's not much."

"It's just what this stew needs – something simple. Pierre was wearing everyone out with the names of his ingredients – most of it was in French." Felicia laughed, and then her eyes flickered to Tianna. "Whose this, dear?"

I took a deep breath. "This is Tianna. Tianna, this is Felicia."

Witch Princess nodded to her once. "Good evening."

"Lovely to meet you, dear. Did you just move here?"

"No, I've been here awhile," Witch Princess answered simply, cryptically.

Felicia seemed a bit puzzled by her answer at first, but then she shrugged. "Well . . . alright, then."

I led Tianna away.

"Shouldn't we be a bit less mysterious?" I asked when we were out of everyone's earshot.

She shrugged. "Why not be as honest as possible?"

"I don't want people thinking" – I began.

Her eyes narrowed. "What? That I'm anti-social and unfriendly? I am, you know. I'm not ashamed or who I am. Are you?"

"No, of course not," I said quickly. I groaned, and pressed two fingers to my temples before leaning forward and kissing her cheek in apology. "You're right. I'm sorry."

She shrugged again. "Shall we go meet your other friends?"

The rest of the introductions seemed to go fairly well. Tianna was polite enough to everyone. Her replies to the Islanders' questions were still a bit enigmatic, but no one ever pressed. Most of them seemed a bit uncomfortable around her at first, but I lightened the atmosphere with kindness and good humor. It seemed to help, a little.

The only other person who gave me trouble was Natalie.

She and Elliot were sitting together by the edge of the Island when we approached them. "Hey, Elliot. Hi, Natalie," I said nicely to them both.

They gave me polite greetings in response.

"Who's this, Mark?" Natalie asked, openly pointing to Witch Princess.

"This is Tianna, my date," I replied professionally.

"Good to meet you," said Tianna in the same tone, her expression slightly bored. I could tell she was wishing to be back home in her home, possibly to reattempt to make that dark blue potion (it hadn't gone well before).

"Date?" Natalie's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't even know you were seeing someone."

"Well, now you do," Witch Princess said curtly.

Natalie's eyes narrowed slightly. She said, "Mmm-hmm." But as she turned her head, she muttered under her breath, "I see why you haven't introduced us before now."

"Excuse me?" Tianna's voice was almost a hiss.

"She didn't mean anything by it," Elliot defended quickly.

He moved – not so inconspicuously – to put his body in front of Natalie's. I was surprised – the two siblings hardly ever got along, and I didn't think Elliot would be so quick to defend her. Even though he attempted to put on a brave face, though, he shuddered under Witch Princess's hostile gaze.

I pulled her away from them quickly.

"I don't like her," she said, "She's too haughty."

"And you aren't?" I said this in a fond, loving way.

Tianna smiled slightly. "Well, I have reason to be."

I sighed and looked away. I knew Witch Princess wasn't being mean intentionally. She was just nervous and uncomfortable with this whole situation. I had to remind myself that she probably hadn't had a real conversation with anyone – besides Witchkin and me – for a very long time. S

he noticed my sad frown. Her expression softened a little, and she reached up to put a hand under my chin. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

I leaned my forehead against hers. "I know. This night will be over soon, ok? We'll leave as soon as we're done eating."

As if on cue, Felicia announced to everyone that the stew was ready. Pierre offered everyone wine, but I declined after a minute of thought. I didn't need a hazy mind tonight, though the alcohol would have calmed my nerves. As we were receiving our bowls of stew, the strangest expression crossed Tianna's face – it looked like she was concentrating on something very, very hard. I didn't say anything to her about it until we sat down on the grass and I noticed bits of sizzling red dancing along her fingers.

"Witch Princess!" I said lowly, "You promised – no magic tonight."

Almost instantly, the red vanished and she looked guilty, but also a tad mischievous. "I know, Mark. I just needed to take care of something very quickly."

We ate in silence after that. I kept glancing up at her periodically to see that same mischievous glint in her eyes. Nervousness began to take root in my stomach. I found out a minute later that I was right to be suspicious.

"Natalie? Natalie!" I heard Pierre say, a bit frantically.

My head whipped around quickly to see the redheaded girl leaning heavily against the little chef's shoulder, looking more than a little green. "Something . . . bad . . . was in here," she groaned, holding the bowl up high.

"Let's get you home and in bed, honey," Felicia murmured, stroking her daughter's hair.

But as they Pierre, Taro, Felicia and Elliot were helping her into Kirk's boat, I couldn't help but notice that the other Islanders were beginning to look a bit flushed themselves. Lanna had a hand over her mouth like she was going to throw up, and Charlie was moaning softly, a hand on his stomach.

Gannon got to his feet – swaying a bit – and lumbered up to the pot. His hand went into the stew without hesitation, and he began searching through the bits of ingredients with an angry expression. His beady eyes narrowed, and he pulled out something very small and very white.

At first, I couldn't tell what it was, because broth was all over it. Gannon wiped it on his shirt and then examined it more closely. I did the same, and, when I really looked, I saw that it was a tiny mushroom.

Gannon took a little bite of it and winced. "Who put this in here?" he bellowed.

"Daddy, I feel sick," Eliza groaned, leaning against him and closing her eyes.

Gannon chucked the mushroom and leaned down to pick her up, momentarily staring down at her in a loving way, before he looked up and eyed each one of us suspiciously. "C'mon, go ahead and speak up, whoever did it. That mushroom I had a second ago was mildly poisonous – I've seen 'em before."

"Poisonous?" Charlie exclaimed. "Are we all going to die?"

Eliza's big blue eyes widened at that, and tears came into her eyes. "I'm too young to die!" she sobbed.

"No, no, Eliza, they'll only make you sick. You'll be better by tomorrow," Gannon assured her. He looked up and said more loudly, "We all will."

"Who went and did it?" Taro snapped harshly.

There was a long silence, but nobody spoke up. My stomach had so many knots I thought _I _might throw up. I hadn't been eating much of the stew anyway – just a few bites or so, and I really didn't feel badly. It looked like everyone else did, though. Taro finally got fed up with waiting.

"Think we should all just go home," he grumbled, "Thanks to whoever ruined the Festival." He and his family sped away.

Witch Princess and I waited until all the other Islanders had gone and we were alone with the empty bowls and big black pot.

Finally, with a growing sense of horror, I turned to her. "Did you do that? Poison the stew?"

Tianna looked very flustered. She opened her mouth as if to say something, only to snap it shut again. She reached out for my wrist and zapped us back to her house. I didn't even care enough to be disoriented at our sudden change of places. I pulled my wrist away from her roughly, and she flinched.

Witchkin, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen.

"Mark," she said quietly, "You have to believe me. I didn't mean for everyone to get sick. I only meant for that redheaded girl to."

"Natalie?" I asked.

"Yes. Her. She deserved it." Tianna grimaced. "It was a sincerely a mistake. I didn't mean to infect the others."

I buried my face in my hands. "Why, why, Witch Princess? Why couldn't you do this one simple thing for me? Haven't I already done so much for you?"

The skull was flat-out blue. She swallowed heavily, but of course she didn't cry. "I'm so sorry."

I shook my head, so angry, so hurt. I knew this evening would turn out to be a disaster, so I wasn't exactly surprised. It was possible the Islanders suspected Tianna for the rotten mushrooms, since nothing like it had happened before she was present at the festival.

She read the panic on my face. "It will be alright, Mark. I'll fix it – I swear," she promised, trying to be casual but not entirely able to keep the desperation from her tone.

"You should," I snapped harshly.

I was about to turn and leave, but then her expression became so heartbreakingly sincere that I was rooted in place. She blinked her dark eyes once, and I could see the tiniest hint of moisture in the corner of one of them. I was beyond surprised. Hesitantly, as if afraid I would turn away, she reached up to put a hand on my arm. When I didn't move, she came in closer, wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

I sighed, and my arms went up to return her hug. I was still angry, but of course I believed her. She wouldn't do anything to intentionally humiliate me this way. Of course not. I turned my face to down to bury it in her hair, breathing deeply. Everything was still going to be okay.

I had to believe that, or else I would go insane. I just had to hold onto the faith that, in the end, our love would triumph over everything that tried to keep us apart.

**Alisa POV **

At first I didn't understand why Nathan didn't want to go to the Harvest Festival.

Usually, he was so eager to attend this sort of celebration – it was the perfect setting to preach about the Harvest Goddess. But when I heard that Mark and the witch where back on the Islands, I began to understand. It was possible that he would bring her. And Nathan wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. It was understandable, I reasoned, to hate something that was the nemesis of the Harvest Goddess. Something the exact opposite of her had to be truly evil. I feared for Mark.

What if he was under some sort of horrible spell that kept him loyal to the witch? Blinded and unable to see how wicked and terrible she really was?

I refused to even consider the possibility that the witch wasn't either of those things. It had been drilled into my head for too long. Who could possibly love a witch? A monster? It had to be a spell. It couldn't be anything else. I would have to help him, but I wasn't sure how. Nathan wouldn't allow it, of course – I wasn't supposed to be around either of them. But somehow, someway, I was going to.

I had only met the blonde farmer once, but I'd gotten the impression that he was a perfectly decent person. It was a shame his life was being wasted with something dark. Nathan sat next to the Harvest Goddess' pond the night of the Festival, and I went out, too, enjoying the cool Fall air against my cheeks.

Out here, I could admire the church further – the building was so magnificent and grand. I went to sit by Nathan, watching the water ripple as he tossed in pretty flowers and pieces of fruit.

"Nathan," I began hesitantly, "How long do you think they will stay together? The witch and the farmer?"

Nathan sighed heavily. "I'm not sure, Alisa. I'm sure of one thing, though.

"What is that?" I wondered. When he spoke again, his voice was so cold and distant I shivered.

"This cannot go on."

**A/N: I apologize for taking so long to post. **


	10. Warning

_10: Warning_

Tianna tried to make good on her promise to fix things with the Islanders.

It genuinely touched me that she was really trying for me. I told her I loved her more and more, because I seemed to fall more in love with her every day.

My farm was doing well; she sometimes came over to visit me, though it still made her uncomfortable to be away from her home. She didn't really understand my fascination with animals.

"I only adore bears," she said firmly, "The other creatures . . . not so much."

I held up a fat chicken with shiny black eyes.

"How could you not love them?" I asked, burying my forehead briefly into its feathers. It squawked happily when I sat it back down gently.

She shrugged, grimacing in distaste.

Though she was making an effort for me and I appreciated it . . . I couldn't say I fully approved of her tactics. When I went into her home one Tuesday evening, she was proudly holding up a large bottle filled with a strange bubbling liquid.

I sat down on the floor next to her largest bear – the one she cherished the most – and yawned, thinking nothing of it.

Witch Princess was always concocting something new – she was easily bored. But if I'd been alive for thousands of years, I'd probably be somewhat bored, too.

"What's that?" I asked, mildly curious.

Tianna grinned triumphantly. "The answer to the whole Harvest Festival issue."

I raised one eyebrow, instantly wary. "Oh?"

"Yes." She chuckled and took my hand.

My surroundings melted away, and then I was floating. It was hard to make out where I was in the dark, but – after squinting for a while – I recognized the rooftops of the few buildings on Sunshine Islands.

Witch Princess laughed at my baffled expression. "Your reactions to my magic are so funny, Mark."

Her dark eyes flashed with amusement, and the skull glowed a bright yellow color. I smiled tenderly. _I _was the one making her happy. But then my caution returned when I remembered the way she'd brought us here so abruptly.

"Tianna, why are we above Vendure Island?" I asked.

She grinned at the cool note in my voice. "Your little Island friends wouldn't be so forgiving of my little Festival stunt, now would they?"

"Can you blame them?" I muttered.

Tianna leaned forward to kiss my lips, and press her palm to my cheek.

"No," she breathed quietly. "But I'm not used to considering other people's feelings."

"You're so evil." I pretended to glare.

Witch Princess shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

I chuckled, and then forced myself to be serious.

"Seriously, why are we here?" I repeated.

She held up her bottle – a potion, of course. "We'll just have to get rid of that nasty first impression," she snickered.

I made a face. "It will make the Islanders to forget?"

"Yes. It won't hurt them, I promise, and it won't erase much." Without another word, she tipped the bottle so a single drop dripped onto the roof of the Animal Shop.

She did the same with the rest of the buildings, on all the other Islands, with the exception of her own and the church.

"Will this work?" I asked without thinking.

Tianna glared. "Of course it will. I was very precise with this one. You really should be thanking me, Mark. This was very hard to make."

"Different potions are harder to make?" I asked curiously.

Witch Princess took my hand and zapped us back to her house. She snapped her fingers, and the bottle disappeared into thin air.

"Of course," she said. "Some are nearly impossible to concoct, simply because getting the ingredients is so difficult. Other witches have died in the attempt to retrieve them."

"You'd never do that, would you?" I asked, shuddering. "Risk your life for a stupid potion?"

Tianna looked away, suddenly seeming distant. A long silence passed, and dread began creeping up my throat, piercing my heart.

"Tianna," I said, touching her arm.

Her eyes met mine. "I've tried before, Mark," she admitted to me quietly, "I've never succeeded, but . . . I've always escaped with my life."

"You don't need potions like that," I said persuasively, "Just stick to what you know."

Witch Princess shook her head, a little sadly. "You don't understand, Mark. Some of them could be more powerful than you could even dream. They could do impossible things . . ."

"It doesn't matter," I insisted. I looked deep in her eyes, trying to push away my frightened feelings.

"Promise me you'll never do anything like that. It's just stupid."

The skull was suddenly tinged blue. She looked away, and I detected an emotion in her gaze that was strange. _Guilt. _I could only hope it was for past actions, and not what she hoped to accomplish in the future.

"I can't, Mark," she said quietly.

I threw up my hands in frustration. "Then what, Tianna? Am I supposed to constantly worry about you dying over some stupid potion?"

"No," she said fiercely, "You won't. It wasn't something I did on a frequent basis."

Pain twisted in my heart. "They're more important than I am to you," I sighed. "Your potions, your bears, your . . . magic."

Witch Princess blinked, as if completely shocked by this statement. A long silence fell over us, and she didn't answer. Conflict raged in her eyes, like someone was wrenching her in two. Then she sighed, and abruptly kissed me, long and deep. I let her, but I pulled away after a moment, anxious for her reply. Finally, she managed to breathe.

"No. That's the strange part, Mark . . . Nothing's ever mattered to me besides my magic. Not other people or witches, not any objects or relatives . . ."

She grimaced. "Well, maybe Witchkin matters a little."

I laughed a little, but it sounded weak.

"I love you, Mark." Witch Princess shrugged. "More than . . . anything."

Her voice was awed, like she couldn't believe her own statement. It mystified her, like the strangest concept to grasp in the world. I kissed her again, and then held her in silence for a while, her forehead on my chest.

"No high-risk potions," I murmured softly.

"I can't agree," she sighed.

The argument hung in the air, but I chose to ignore it for the moment. We'd just have to agree to disagree.

* * *

Witch Princess came with me to Vendure Island the next morning, clutching my hand and glancing around suspiciously. It was time to make a new first impression on the Islanders, now that the first one had been completely erased.

Tianna had insisted the green bubbling potion took only minutes to take effect, but she must regret telling me that now. She'd promised to be nice today. Even to Natalie. Denny approached me first, his eyes appraising Tianna openly, but not rudely.

He grinned at her widely, but he leaned away slightly when she flashed a returning smile at him, her dark red eyes seemingly sweet.

"Who's this, Mark?" Denny asked.

I breathed a sigh of relief, now that I knew for sure the strange potion had worked.

"This is Wi – Tianna, Denny. My . . . girlfriend." I didn't really care for the word – it seemed so superficial. Like I should describe her as more than that. And maybe I would, in the future . . .

"Nice to meet you." Denny nodded at her, but he didn't offer to shake her hand.

Tianna seemed to appreciate that.

We went around the Island then, re-meeting everyone. We saved Natalie for last, and the two were thankfully civil to each other.

"See?" I said to Witch Princess quietly when she had zapped us to my house. "You can get through introductions without poisoning anyone."

She rolled her eyes. "Just barely."

* * *

Witchkin was annoyed.

Apparently she'd challenged her Aunt to a huge magical battle she'd been sure she could win – and lost.

She paced my house, muttering unintelligibly under her breath. Sometimes she would stop randomly to insult me – it seemed to make her feel better.

Finally, after the third 'moron', my patience ran out and I snapped, "Why are you hanging around here, anyway?"

"Meadow Island's full of irritating Islanders," she grumbled, "And I don't want to be anywhere _near _the old bag right now."

I searched my mind, trying to think up a way of getting her to leave without her turning me into a frog first.

"I wish _I _was with Tianna right now," I said.

"You can't," Witchkin growled, "She's busy."

I nodded, my voice calm and cool. "Yes, I know. But when I see her, I'm going to give her a nice, long kiss."

Witchkin grimaced in horror. "You're gross."

"I could kiss her forever," I went on, as if she hadn't spoken. "It's just _that_ good."

Witchkin exhaled loudly, and she glared unkindly.

"I'm not leaving because of you," she said, jutting her chin out defiantly, "I'm going because you're boring. And mentally deranged."

A light mist began forming around her – she couldn't disappear as quickly or inconspicuously as Tianna all the time – but just as she was beginning to fade away, she tilted her head to the side, as if listening to something.

She smirked, only her face visible to me now through the mist.

"You're about to have a visitor," Witchkin sang sneakily.

And then she vanished completely. I rose from the chair I'd been sitting in, wary about Tianna's treacherous niece's reaction to this visitor. Who could it be? I waited a full thirty seconds before someone knocked lightly on my door, three times.

I pulled it open – and found myself staring at a round, childish face framed by light red hair. Wide blue eyes stared at me with a strange mixture of pity, curiosity and . . . fear?

"Good afternoon, Alisa," I said, smiling.

Her answering smile was nervous; her expression was cautious. "Hello, Mark. May I come in?"

"Sure." I gestured inside, hoping to put her at ease.

But she slunk by me quickly, as if I was a snake that might strike at any moment.

"Coffee?" I offered after a minute.

Alisa shook her head and wrung her hands together nervously. I waited in silence for a while for her to begin. When she spoke, her voice was shaky.

"Nathan doesn't know I'm here," she admitted quietly.

I blinked, more than a little surprised. Alisa generally never did anything with Nathan's knowledge. I was pleased with how calm I sounded when I replied.

"Why?"

Alisa's eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. "Oh, Mark, I feel so sorry for you," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

I moved toward her quickly, and touched her arm. She flinched away, so my hands hung in the air for a moment before I left them drop to my sides. Confusion was my strongest emotion at this point.

"Why, Alisa? I'm perfectly fine, I promise."

She shook her head. "No, of course not," she insisted. "You've been bewitched. By perhaps one of the world's most evil creatures."

I blinked. "Who? Tianna?"

"Of course. The witch." Alisa nodded, wiping at one of her eyes. "She's obviously placed you under some sort of spell that caused you to become besotted with her. She's using you, somehow. For her own personal gain, of course. Witches never consider anyone other than themselves."

Anger welled up inside me, and my tone was harsh. "Tianna's done nothing of the sort. I'm with her of my own free will."

Alisa sighed and looked away, still grieved. It was obvious she didn't believe me. I was suddenly suspicious.

"Is it really you who believes this, Alisa? Or is Nathan putting ridiculous thoughts into your head?"

Alisa glared at me, more fiercely than I thought her capable of. "Nathan has done nothing throughout my life but give me helpful guidance and knowledge."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Alisa, I honestly don't care whether or not you believe me. I'm with Tianna for one reason."

"What is that?" She wondered.

A small part of me was amused by how perplexed she was.

"I love her."

My words hung in the air for a long time. Alisa's eyes widened, and they flicked wildly around for moment, as if they were tangible, visible things.

"Witches are powerful, Mark," she murmured quietly. "They can make you believe things. Do things. But that's not the point. I'm here to warn you."

"Warn?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Yes." Alisa nodded. "Nathan has been observing you for quite some time, and he's simply convinced that you cannot go on spending time with the witch."

I blinked, shocked. I knew that Nathan and Alisa were concerned for me, what with their love for the Harvest Goddess, but I never believed they would go so far as to intervene.

"It's none of his business," I said angrily.

Alisa shrugged. "That's not really the point. I don't know what he'll do, but . . . it can't be good."

Her eyes were suddenly pleading. "Please, Mark, listen to me. I'm only trying to protect you. She doesn't love you. She's a witch."

Anger so fierce I could swear I saw bits of red clouded my vision, overwhelmed my mind. How _dare_ she speak to me this way.

"Please leave, Alisa. Your purpose has not been achieved." I wrenched the door open.

Sadly, she walked outside, with one last pitying glance at me. As she walked away, before I slammed the door, I heard her mutter one thing.

"This can't end well."

**A/N: I promise, I will finish this fic eventually. **


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